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LuDovic AND Gertrude. 



By Hendeik Conscience, 


Author of “The Curse of the Village,” “ The Happiness of Being Rich,” “ Veva,” 
“ The Lion of Flanders,” “ Count Hugo of Craenhove,” “ Wooden Clara,” 
“The Poor Gentleman,” “ Ricketicketack,” “The Demon of Gold,” 

“The Village Inn-Keeper,” “The Conscript,” “Blind Rosa,” 

“ The Miser,” “ The Fisherman’s Daughter,” 

“The Amulet,” “The Young Doctor,” 

“ Ludovic and Gertrude.” 


Cranslateb far lljb ®bitioit. 



BALTIMOEE: 

Published by John Murphy & Co., 

182 Baltimore Street. 

Sold by Booksellers Generally. 

187o. 




o 


Kutcired, accordiug to Act of Congress, iu the year 1875, by 
JOHN MU.RrilY, 

in the Ofeco of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 


Translator’s Preface. 


rjlHE scene of this romance is laid in Antwerp, during the 
period when Flanders was under the dominion of Spain, 
and when the terrible Duke of Alva, as representative of 
Philip II., ruled the country with an iron rod. The Flem- 
ings had banded themselves together under the name of ' 
GueuXy and swore to free their native land from the hated 
yoke of the foreigner, or die in its defence. But whilst high 
and lofty motives had made conspirators of Antwerp’s best 
and noblest men, associated with these chivalric souls, whose 
spring of action was true patriotism, was another class of 
men, who made love of country a cloak for dark and deep 
designs. They hated the faith of the Spaniards rather than 
the nation, and to exterminate their faith from Flanders was 
the secret determination of many of the Gueux, whilst others 
rejoiced in anticipation over the booty to be gained by the 
pillage of churches and monasteries. Many unwary Catho- 
lics fell into the snare and swelled the number of the Gueux, 
persuaded that they were about to draw their swords in the 
cause of freedom. Among those thus deluded was God- 
maert, a man whose high birth was illustrated by every 
Christian virtue. He soon became their acknowledged 
leader, and by his influence won over Ludovic, a young 

iii 


IV 


TRANSLATOK^S PREFACE. 


noble, to whom he had promised the hand of his daughter, 
Gertrude. The first duty imposed upon Ludovic was to 
seek an outlawed bandit chief, Wolfangh, and by promises 
of a large reward engage him and his band to aid' the Gueux 
upon the breaking out of the revolt, which they had planned 
for an early day. Unpalatable as was the mission, he was 
bound by oath to obey his chief, Godmaert. 

In the meantime, whilst he was discharging the duty as- 
signed him by Godmaert, Godmaert himself had been torn 
from his daughters arms, upon a false charge made by a 
Spanish cavalier, thrown into prison, and subjected to tor- 
ture until he was supposed to be dead. 

The efforts made by Gertrude and, after his return, by 
Ludovic to obtain admission to Godmaert^s prison are 
touchingly described ; also their success, through the exer- 
tions of Father Francis, a Dominican monk; the meeting 
between Godmaert and Gertrude, and their hope of obtain- 
ing his release, founded upon Father Francis’s influence 
with the Governor. 

At last the day appointed for the insurrection arrived — 
a day whose excesses are familiar to all acquainted with the 
history of the time. Conscience describes with much spirit 
the fury of the lawless mob, against which the small force 
of the Spanish was powerless. Churches were sacked, stat- 
uary and paintings, the pride of Antwerp, were broken to 


TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. 


V 


pieces or torn in shreds ; monasteries were demolished, and 
the peaceful inmates put to death. Ludovic and Yfolfangli 
— the latter of whom was deserted by his band, who scattered 
in search of booty — were forced to see the frenzied crowd 
rushing on to the work of destruction without being able to 
stay their mad career. Wolfangh having succeeded in col- 
lecting a few men, liberated Godmaert from prison and con- 
veyed him to his own home. Ludovic sought Father 
Francis, found him in his monastery, of which the mob had 
taken possession, forced him to accompany him, risked his 
own life to protect the holy priest, and exposed himself to 
receive the stones aimed at the religious. He was on the 
point of being overpowered, when Wolfangh appeared, and 
conveyed the Father, Avith Ludovic’s aid, to Godmaert’s 
house. But the good old man had been mortally wounded, 
and he died a martyr to the faith, consoling Godmaert, who 
had directed the revolt, but who now saw the fatal error ho 
had committed. Father Francis, grateful to Ludovic for 
his filial devotion, desired that Gertrude Avould bestow her 
hand upon him, and gave them his benediction. S. J. F. 

Baltimore, March, 1875. 
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CONTENTS 


Chapter I. 

PAGE 

The Gueux 9 

Chapter II. 

The Interview with YaldI:s . . . . . .24 

Chapter III. 

Luisbekelaer 41 

Chapter IV. 

^YOLFANG^ 55 

Chapter V. 

Valdes’s Eevenge 'TO 

Chapter VI. 

Godmaert before the Tribunal 85 

Chapter VII. ' 

The Death of Valdes 96 

Chapter VIII. 

The Kescue of Godmaert 122 

Chapter IX. 

The Insurrection *137 

Chapter X. 

The Death of Father Francis 157 

vii 


Ludovic, 


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LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE GUEUX. 

I T was the 16th of August, a. d. 1566. 

The night was dark ; the rain had been falling 
incessantly during the day, and the streets of Ant- 
werp were covered with water, l^o light was visible 
save that cast by the wax candles which some pious 
inhabitants had placed before the images of the 
saints.^ 

At that period, few persons dared trust themselves 
in the streets at midnight ; for the diversity of 
religious opinions had been the cause of violent 
animosities between the citizens. The watchman 
alone, armed with a pike and carrying a lantern, 
was traversing the city on the night of wliich we 
speak. 

‘‘ The clock strikes twelve ! ” he exclaimed, sud- 
denly, and quick as a flash he disappeared in a by- 
street. 

He is gone,” said a man who had been concealed 
behind the pump of the cattle-market, and who now 
emerged from his hiding-place, followed by a com- 
panion. They both wore broad-brimmed hats, and 

Even at the present day, the streets of Antwerp are adorned by 
numerous statues: the greater part of them represent the Blessed 
Virgin. 


9 


10 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


around their _ shoulders were flung wide, brown 
cloaks, l)ut the light v/as too feeble to permit the 
remainder of their attire to be distinguished. 

‘‘ Did I understand you aright, Mr. Conrad, that 
our friends have assembled ? ’’ said one of them. 

Yes ; to-night the great aftair will be decided. 
If we succeed in gaining to our party the terrible 
Wolfangh and his band, the work will soon com- 
mence. But it behooves us to make haste ; I think 
the guards from the citadel are coming in this 
direction.” 

They passed cautiously in the rear of the butchery 
and entered a narrow street. When they reached 
the fish-market, the first said to his companion : 

“ By what means shall Ave obtain the assistance of 
Wolfangh? We have but little money, and the 
least revelation of our plans might cost us our 
lives.” 

Godmaert has arranged all that,” replied Conrad ; 
‘Gie has engaged in our interest a young nobleman, 
who appears to be under obligations to him. We 
will make use of this gentleman. He seems to me, 
however, to be somewhat friendly to the Spaniards. 
This very day he will be made acquainted with our 
designs, and if he refuses to take the oath by which 
Ave have all bound ourselves, I knoAv a AA^ay to j)re- 
vent him from revealing Avhat he may haAm learned 
at our assembly.” 

He dreAv from his bosom, AAdtli an ominous smile, 
a dagger, the -blade of AAdiich glittered in the flicker- 
ing light shed by the candles which were burning 
before a statue of the Blessed Virgin. 

They pursued their way in silence until they 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE, 


11 


reached the sliort street of Peteer-Pot. In this 
narrow alley, they stop|)e(l before an isolated house, 
and thrice let fall gently the knocker upon the door. 

“ Who is there ? ’’ demanded a hoarse and trem- 
bling voice behind the grating. 

“ Dagger and wallet 1 ” they replied, in a low tone. 

The door opened, and it was again bolted after ad- 
mitting the new-comers. 

“ Are all the Gueux here ? asked Conrad. 

“All, with the exception of Godmaert,” replied 
the old woman. “ Come in, I beg you ; these gentle- 
men are keeping up a brisk conversation. I am only 
an old woman, hut in my opinion they would do 
better were they to talk less, for who kiiows hut 
that there may he spies in the house ? ’’ 

“ What mean you by that, mother ? ’’ 

“Yes, 3ms, Mister Conrad, there is in the room a 
deceitful-looking ^^outh to whom I would not intrust 
a shilling.” 

“ Be quick, and attend only to your own affairs,” 
said Conrad, as he opened the door of a room at the 
extremity of the passage. 

The apartment which they entered was large, and 
the walls were hung with gilded leather. Under the 
broad mantle-piece of carved stone blazed a clear fire. 
Two iron lamps suspended from the ceiling dimly 
lighted the whole room. On an oval table, covered 
with jugs of wine, lay a few open letters, a large 
wallet, several pistols and daggers. In one corner 
stood a small desk holding an ehon^" crucifix. 

About twenty persons were seated around the 
table upon heavy chairs rudely carved. Like the 
newly-arrived guests, they all wore brown cloaks and 


12 


LUDOVIC AXD GERTRUDE. 


broad-brimmed bats. Their mustaches were not 
curled, according to the style of the Spaniards, but 
they fell thick over their lips. A poniard thrust 
into a leathern belt gleamed ominously as the dim 
light fell upon it ; on their breasts they wore a golden 
medal upon which was engraven a wallet — the proof 
that they prized the name of Gueux^ although it 
had been applied to them as a term of contempt. 
Jfumerous flagons of beer and wine were upon the 
table ; but the guests used wooden bowls instead of 
glasses. 

Seated apart, at a distance from these revellers, 
and absorbed in thought, was a young gentleman ; 
his head, resting upon his hand, was turned towards 
the wall. His features were remarkably flne. He 
was tall and well proportioned, and his black hair 
fell in curls upon his shoulders. lie wore neither 
cloak nor dagger, nor anything which could mark 
him as one of the Gueux. Whilst their doublets 
were of a sombre gray, the young noble was richly 
clad in silk and velvet. His left hand rested lightly 
on the golden hilt of a long rapier, whose steel blade 
yielded to the slightest impression. On Conrad’s 
entrance, he glanced at the noisy assembly ; a dis- 
dainful smile curled his lips and a frown contracted 
his brow, as the word fools ” escaped him. 

Good-evening, Houtappel, Van Halen, Schuer- 
mans, de Rydt, Van der Voort ;’*good-evening, breth- 
ren ? ” said Conrad, seating himself at the table. 

“ You are welcome ! ” they replied, as they emptied 
their bowls of beer. 

“ Where are you, old witch ? ” called out Van der 
Voort. 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


13 


“ Here, here 1 ” answered the ragged hostess : “ shall 
I serve beer to these, gentlemen ? ’’ 

“ Certainly ! they exclaimed. The Giieux 
would by themselves drink the Scheldt dry, if its 
waters were as delicious as the wine of Mother 
Schrikkel.” 

‘‘ But, Van Halen, tell me,’’ said Conrad, pointing 
to the young man seated by himself, what is that 
elegant young lady doing in our society ? He looks 
more like a bride than a member of the Gueux.” 

Godmaert alone knows what use we can make of 
him ; he has forbidden any insult to be offered him.” 

‘‘ What matters that ? ” said Schuermans, who had 
been drinking deeply. ‘‘Hoble sir,” he called out, 
“ approach the table. If you refuse to empty this 
bowl of wine, I pronounce you to be a Belgian false 
to your country. Do 3 ^ou hear me, young man ? ” 
he added, raising his voice. 

Ludovic arose : 

‘W^es,” he replied; ‘‘I understand you perfectly, 
and, but for the obedience I owe to the instructions 
of Godmaert, I would demand satisfaction upon the 
spot for your insulting language.” 

“Are you noble?” demanded the infuriated 
Schuermans, seizing his poniard. 

“ More noble than yourself,” said Ludovic; “ since 
you sully the name you bear by conduct unbecoming 
a man who has the honor to carry the wallet.” 

“You shall answer for your insolence with your 
life ! ” exclaimed Schuermans, springing to the other 
side of the table, and attempting to plunge his dagger 
in Ludovic’s breast. By a skilful movernent, the 
young man parried the thrust. 


14 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


Ill an instant twenty poniards were drawn from 
tlieir scabbards aviid glittered in the air. "With the 
noise of the blows dealt by the two adversaries, were 
mingled the entreaties of those present that they 
would be reconciled ; but all efforts were vain. 
Schuermans, foaming with rage, sought to bury his 
poniard in the heart of Ludovic. The spectators 
endeavored to part the combatants ; they jostled each 
other ; they vociferated ; the bowls rolled on the 
floor; the chairs were overturned, and the tumult 
was such that no individual could obtain a hearing 
or aid in restoring calm. 

The old woman called out to them that the guard 
was at the door ; she threatened them with the prison 
and the scaflFold ; the combat still continued. 

Schuermans was determined to kill the young 
man ; but he, seeing the danger, drew his sword. 
At the same moment blood spouted against the 
wall, and the unfortunate Schuermans fell senseless 
to the ground- 

Ludovic withdrew his rapier from the wound, and, 
deeply dejected, cast down his eyes. 

They carefully renioved Schuermans’ garments, and 
were stanching the blood which flowed from his 
wound, when the knocker thrice resounded upon the 
door. 

0 my God ! ” exclaimed the old woman, in terror ; 
“ they have come ! ” 

“ Who ? ” demanded Eydt. 

“ The soldiers of the guard,” answered Mother 
Schrikkel. 

‘‘ Keep quiet,” said Conrad. I will see what is the 
matter. Who is there ? ” he called out behind the 
grating. 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


15 


‘‘ Dagger and wallet ! ’’ answered a calm, grave 
voice. 

A few moments afterwards the old Godmaert 
entered the room, which was sprinkled with. blood. 
Stnpeiied, he stood npOn the tlireshold, glancing 
angrily at the inanimate body of Schuermans. 

“ A¥hat does this signify ? ’’ he demanded, in a 
severe tone. Have you forgotten your oath to de- 
fend each other even unto death, and to stain your 
swords only with Spanish blood ? Woe to him who, 
in violation of his plighted word, has shed the blood 
of a Gueux ? ” 

All were silent, confused, and sorrowful in the 
presence of the old man whom they had selected for 
their chief. 

‘‘ AVho committed this crime? ” he asked. 

A^an der Voort related to him what had just 
occurred. Godmaert listened to the recital with in- 
dignation. . After glancing sternly at Ludovic, he 
turned to the wounded man and exclaimed, in a 
voice of thunder : 

Schuermans ! ’’ 

At the call of his friend and chief, he opened his 
eyes as if awakening from a deep sleep. 

Schuermans,’’ said Godmaert, why did you not 
obey my orders ? I grieve to see that so few among 
you understand the means to he adopted in order to 
attain the object we have in view. AVhy did you 
insult Ludovic ? ” 

Schuermans, who had been restored to his senses 
by the loss of blood, soon collected his ideas, and re- 
plied, in a feeble but distinct voice: 

“The wine made my blood boil, Godmaert. I 


IG 


LUDOYIC AND GERTRUDE. 


acknowledge that I was wrong in disobeying your 
commands, and in not permitting this young man to 
dream undisturbed in the corner. I cheerfully par- 
don him for the wound he inflicted upon me, and 
which, thanks be to God, is not mortal ; but I 
swear that, so long as Ludovic does not drink to the 
health of the Gueux, I shall regard him as a friend 
to Spain, and I will not consider him as a member 
of our society.” 

^‘Ludovic! Ludovic!” exclaimed Godmaert, ‘‘do 
you forget, imprudent young man, that you must be 
prepared to sacrifice self-love and personal feelings 
to love of country? I command you to approach 
the table and drink a bowl of wine.” 

He extended a full cup towards Ludovic, who 
took it with a trembling hand and very reluctantly. 

“ So be it 1 ” said the young nobleman. “ To the 
health of all true lovers of the country ! ” 

He touched the cup with his lips, but Godmaert 
caught his arm so hastily that the wine streamed 
over the rich clothing of the young man. 

“ To the health of the Gueux ! ” exclaimed God- 
maert. “ The Gueux — that is the name of the 
patriots 1 ” 

Ludovic, pale and sad, looked upon the cup in 
despair. 

“ Godmaert,” he cried, with, energy, “ to what do 
you compel me ? Can I drink to the health of the 
enemies of my religion ? Oh, spare me this treacli- 
cry ! ” 

Godmaert ’s fiice expressed the anger which agi- 
tated him. He was deeply wounded by Ludovic’s 
resistance to his will. 


LUDOVIC AND GEllTllUDE. 


17 


“Who told you/’ he said, hitterljr, “that the 
Gueiix were the enemies of religion ? ” 

“ Would that they were not ! ” replied the young 
man, with impetuosity. “ I would, with my whole 
heart, in that case, unite my efforts with theirs. I, 
too, would detest the Spaniards, were they not the 
sole defenders of the faith.” 

He loves the Spaniards ! ” cried out the Gueux, 
indignantly. “ Away with the traitor ! ” 

“ I do not love the Spaniards,” said Ludovic, ener- 
getically. “Understand me, gentlemen, I do not 
love them. To them my family owes its ruin. But 
I regard them as the only confederacy which can 
arrest the progress of the reformers and successfully 
oppose the attacks made upon our religion. Eeflect 
seriously upon what you are about to do ; if you. 
drive out the Spaniard, you open the Low Countries 
to the heretics, the Iconoclasts, the scum of a foreign 
soil, already prepared to pour like a torrent upon 
our country, and to^ destroy there every vestige of the 
faith of our fathers.” 

The expression of Godmaert’s face changed at 
once, and he became calm and gentle. The old man 
said to Ludovic : 

“ I see with pride, Ludovic, your attachment to 
the religion of your ancestors. You know well, that 
I myself have fostered this sentiment in your heart; 
that I intrusted you to the care of a most venerable 
priest. It may be that Father Francis, who knows 
little of the ways of the world, has mistaken our 
intentions and misunderstood the means we intend 
to adopt. In the same manner, you yourself are 
acting at this moment under a false impression. 

2 - E 


18 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


Our only object is to combat tlie enemies of our 
country. You should lend us your aid, and you will 
do so ; it is my wish. Eeceive the advice of a man 
much older than yourself, and who was appointed 
by your own father to be your guide through life.’’ 

Ludovic bowed his head, and said, with a deep- 
drawn sigh : 

‘‘That is true! I may be mistaken. What do 
you command me to do ? ” 

“ Drink to the health of the Gueux.” 

The young man seized the bowl, raised his eyes to 
heaven, and exclaimed : 

“ 0, my God 1 pardon me, if what I do is displeas- 
ing in Thy eyes ! To the health of the Gueux ! ” 

All present joined with Godmaert in exclamations 
of joy, as though they had been victorious over an 
enemy. Ludovic’s scruples awakened a smile on 
more than one face. Yan ITalen alone remained 
serious and thoughtful; the words just uttered had 
made a deep impression upon him, and inspired him 
vdth a feeling of mistrust. 

“ Gentlemen,” he said, “ do not despise the senti- 
ments of this young man ; perhaps he alone sees 
things in their true light.” 

Godmaert feared that a conversation upon this 
subject might endanger the realization of his designs, 
and he interrupted Yan Ilalen, saying: 

“Which of us, gentlemen, desires to remain 
longer under the bondage of Spain? Yot one. 
Why then discuss a point foreign to the question ? 
Permit Ludovic to entertain his opinion unmolested: 
it is praiseworthy. lie will aid us in delivering our 
country ; have confidence in him ; he is a noble and 
loyal gentleman.” 


LUDOVIC AND GERTEUDE. 


19 


Van Halen apprdacliecl Ludovic, and, taking liis 
hand, said in a low tone : 

‘‘You have a noble heart. I applaud jonr course; 
but tell me, what would you do were the Span- 
iards to attack your countrymen ? ’’ 

Ludovic reddened as the question was put to him. 
He lifted his head proudly, and said : 

“I would shed my blood for my brethren. But 
if the Spaniards should come into our country solely 
to expel the foreigners who have entered it for the 
purpose of disseminating false doctrine, I would not 
hesitate to combat for the faith under their flag.’’ 

Van Halen replied by a warm pressure of his hand. 
Happily, Godmaert heard none of these side remarks, 
for he would have been much displeased. 

The room was soon restored to its original con- 
dition. The old woman had wiped the spots of blood 
from the wall ; the chairs were replaced ; the flagons 
were filled, and each guest resumed his seat at the 
table. 

Notwithstanding the entreaties of his friends, 
Schuermans persisted in remaining with them, in 
order, he said, to become better acquainted with Lu- 
dovic. He thought it impossible he could be of a 
malicious character, for his countenance expressed 
neither anger nor resentment. 

“Fill your bowls,” said Godmaert, “and give me 
your attention whilst I explain to you the reason 
for which I assembled you to-night. 

“ You know well the violence and injustice wo 
daily endure at the hands of the Spanish tyrant and 
his satraps ; you are aware that they derisively call 
the nobles of our country, Gueux ; that- they remove 


20 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


them from all public offices, that they may have 
more liberty to oppress our unhappy brethren. They 
know that we are impatient under the galling yoke, 
and that the desire of vengeance has taken root in 
our hearts ; they dread an insurrection which would 
snatch the Low Countries from their grasp. On this 
account, in defiance of the privileges guaranteed to 
us, they have overrun the land with Spanish soldiery ; 
they desire to remind us that we are slaves in a vast 
prison. Gallows and scaffolds are erected in every 
city ; the sword of the executioner nightly performs 
its bloody work. Yes, my friends, let your tears 
flow ! Yever more will you behold Zierinck nor 
Van Bercheur. Last evening they were torn from 
their homes, and before midnight their heads had 
rolled upon the scafibld. This secret and infamous 
execution took place in the JEckhofJ^ 

A murmur of disapprobation interrupted God- 
maert ; he himself became red with anger as he re- 
vealed this odious deed. He continued : 

‘‘ But let the tyrants beware ! The Belgian lion 
will one day gnaw the links of the chain which now 
bind him, and when that day comes, the Scheldt will 
toss upon its waves the bodies of the Spaniards by 
thousands. But in order to hasten the happy moment 
which will restore us to freedom, we must at once 
mature our plans. Ludovic, listen to me ; what I am 
about to say concerns yourself alone. When a villain, 
who has been exalted and made powerful by destiny, 
persecutes the good who are weak, have not the latter 
the right to combat against the unjust oppression of 
their enemy, even if it be necessary to employ arti- 
fice and treachery ? ’’ 


LUDOVIC AND GEIITRUDE. 


21 


“ Ifo,” replied Ludovic ; “ a recourse to treacliery 
and perjury is inexcusable under any circumstances. 
I learned this lesson from your own lips.’’ 

“ I know it, Ludovic ; but understand that we can 
attain our object only by artifice. Did we all enter- 
tain the same opinions upon this subject as you do, 
we would soon be etiaced from the list of nations. 
AVe must meet violence by craft ; we must resort to 
any measures which may check our oppressors in the 
work of persecution. And can you believe, Ludovic, 
that they have not deserved death ? They have de- 
prived us of liberty and reduced us to a state of 
bondage. They have put our brethren to death with 
impunity ; and we — we of the old heroic race 
of Ambiorix — leave our poniards rusting in the 
scabbard. Shall we sit with folded arms and see the 
blood of our friends flowing around us? Shall our 
vengeance consist in expressions of hatred ? ITo ; not- 
withstanding my old age, the blood flows warm in 
my veins, and I am ready to shed every drop of it in 
the service of my country. I wish to witness the 
death of the last Spaniard whose foot treads our 
soil.” 

So great was his anger and his desire of vengeance, 
that for a few moments he was deprived of the 
power of speech. 

“ Know also,” he resumed, that King Philip II. 
has disdainfully rejected the petition of his subjects 
of the Low Countries. The Prince of Orange, the 
Counts d’Egmont and de Horn invite the Gueux of 
Antwerp to assemble as many men as possible, in vievv" 
of the great revolution which will soon take place. 
Then we will show our oppressors that we are not 


22 


I.UDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


clegeneiTite sons of noble sires, and that Tve, too, will 
not bear the yoke of the foreigner.’’ 

The white-haired orator was silent. All present 
liad listened to him with the deepest attention ; but, 
when he concluded his vehement exhortation, they 
Avere loud in their expressions of hatred, and vowed 
vengeance against Spain. Although Ludovic was 
impressed by the words of Grodmaert, he did not 
speak. lie hesitated ; he reflected on what he had 
heard. The old woman was asleep in a corner. The 
excitable Schuermans had almost forgotten his wound, 
and drank with his companions to the future liberty 
of his country and the extermination of the Spaniard. 

In the meantime, Godmaert drew Ludovic aside, 
and strove to make him adopt his own ideas. It was 
no easy task ; for, after a half-hour’s conversation, 
Ludovic said : 

‘AVell, Godmaert, I rely upon your paternal solici- 
tude ; since you wish it, I will take the oath.” 

The crucifix was placed upon the table. Godmaert, 
reverently uncovering his head, said to Ludovic, in 
a solemn manner : “ Young man, do you swear, by 
the holj' Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ, to aid 
your brethren on all occasions, to labor unceasingly 
for the expulsion of our common enemy, and to obey 
the chief whom you have helped to elect? As to 
3'our religion, have no anxiety ; we are now, and we 
will always be, faithful to the Church of our fathers.” 

Ludovic raised his right hand : 

“ I swear it before God and by my honor ! ” he 
said. 

Then all drank to his health, and Schuermans 
took his hand in a friendly manner. 


LUDOYIC AND GERTIIUDE. 


23 


“Gentlemen,” said Godmaert, “time presses; day 
is dawning in the east. Therefore, I must conimn- 
nicate to you in a few words what remains to he 
said. 'Not far from the village of Zoersel lives 
AVolfangh, who, at the head of a hand of twenty 
rohhers, has hitherto escaped the gallows, although 
he attacks hoth Belgians and Spaniards. By order 
of the Prince of Orange, I must endeavor to gain 
this man either hy money or hy promises. We are 
publicly known as Gueux, consequently this mission 
could not he performed secretly hy us. I command 
Ludovic, in virtue of his oath, to q-q alone to Wol- 
fangh.’’ • 

“ It is hard,” replied Ludovic, “ to share with 
rohhers and villains the honor of freeing our coun- 
try; hut, as I am hound hy my oath, I will obey 
your orders.” 

“ To-morrow,” resumed Godmaert, “ you will re- 
ceive written instructions, to which you will loyally 
conform. At present, I have nothing else to say, 
except to caution you to observe secrecy as to 'all 
that has passed here. I have gained my object. 
Ludovic, Gertrude invites you to dinner to-mor- 
row.” 

Saying these words, he threw his cloak around 
him and withdrew. Ludovic’s eyes sparkled with 
joy. The name of his beloved Gertrude had put 
to flight the sad thoughts which filled his mind, 
lie took leave wdth a light heart of the assembled 
Gueux. 

Conrad and Van der Voort took charge of Schuer- 
mans, and, as the door closed after them, the house 
became profoundly still. 


24 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


CHAPTER II. 


THE INTERVIEW WITH VALD1B3. 

A T tlie period when these events oecurred, there 
stood in Emperor Street an edifice much higher 
tlian the buildings which surrounded it. It was en- 
tered by a large door, beautifully sculptured. The 
many windows which looked upon the street were 
protected by massive iron bars, — a precaution very 
necessary in those times of trouble and disorder ; 
for the number of robbers and brigands had wonder- 
fully increased ; and so rarely were the laws enforced, 
that deeds of violence were committed with impu- 
nity at noonday. This building, which resembled 
a prison rather than the palace of a nobleman, was 
the residence of Godmaert. 

He was seated in his study, his head resting on 
his hand, refiecting upon state affairs, when the door 
of the apartment was gently opened and a monk en- 
tered. He Avas a man of about seventy years of age, 
of a lofty stature, which age had not bent ; for he 
held himself erect, although his movements were 
tremulous. He threw back his cowl, and it would 
have been impossible to have looked upon his noble 
head without a feeling of veneration. His face, 
although wrinkled, was dignified and beautiful, and 
was expressive of goodness and tenderness ; whilst 
one might read in liis eye that his heart was sad. 

On the arrival of the priest, Godmaert arose 


LUDOVIC AND OEllTRUDE. 


25 


quickly, advanced to meet him, and pressed his hand 
aiFectionately, saying : 

“ My good Father Francis, how shall I thank you 
for this visit ? ” 

My son,’’ replied the priest, should I not labor, 
in these days of error and unbelief, to preserve your 
children from contagion? Hitherto their hearts 
have femained pure and pious. I would sin, did I 
not watch over them w'ith additional solicitude, now 
that the demon makes use of the love of country to 
seduce souls.” 

The priest seated himself, and continued: 

Godmaert, I have come to talk awhile with 
Ludovic and Gertrude. I am anxious about my be- 
loved children.” 

“ Ludovic is not here. Father ; but Gertrude is in 
the librar}^, and she will be delighted to see you.” 

I will go to her, presently ; but, Godmaert, my 
son, my friend, my brother, listen this once to my 
advice, and pardon the tears which flow for you.” 

‘‘ Speak freely. Father ; you know the value I 
place upon your words, and the affection I have ever 
borne you.” 

The priest took Godmaert’s hand, and said, with 
emotion : 

I know it, my son. That you are misled, blit 
not guilty, is a great consolation to me. But, God- 
maert, Godmaert, the enemy of God triumphs in 
your country ! Every day the air is filled with blas- 
phemies hurled against the faith of our fathers; 
crowds of heretics, led by Satan, overrun the land, 
and lead astray our blinded countrymen. They have 
a Avatchword, a flag on Avhich is iqscribed; Mlatred 


26 


LUDOVIO AND GEHTBUDE. 


to Spaniards ! ’ Ah ! no, no. You are deceived. It 
means, ‘ Hatred to the ancient faith of the Belgians ! ’ 
It is not the throne of Philip II. they desire to 
overthrow ; they wish to profane and destroy the 
altars of God. And to know that you, my son, my 
friend, you, whose soul is so magnanimous and loyal, 
that you, Godmaert, you combat under this standard ! 
Oh ! the thought overwhelms me with sorrow. I 
invoke heaven in the words of our dying Lord: 
^Forgive him. Father; for he knows not what he 
doesP’^ 

Godmaert was deeply moved by the words of the 
j)riest, and he felt their truth ; but he could not sud- 
denly alter his plans, and he replied : 

am aware. Father, that our country is filled 
with evil-minded people, foreigners, who have come 
among us to scatter the seeds of heresy; but I do 
not think that the revolution will assist the accom- 
plishment of their designs.” 

Godmaert, remove the bandage from your eyes. 
Why have Tournay, Oudenarde, Lille, and Valen- 
ciennes been taken possession of by the Calvinists ? 
Why has the doctrine of the Anabaptists spread like 
a devouring fire through Holland and Zealand ? 
Why do Calvinists, Anabaptists, and Lutherans 
openly preach their errors at Antwerp ? Shall I tell 
you? It is because you and other nobles, by your 
opposition to Spanish rule, have paralyzed the gov- 
ernment. What will be the consequence? You 
will see the temples of God abandoned to the prof- 
anations of the wicked, who will mock at those 
things which you hold sacred. Do you not hear in 
the distance the roll of the thunder betokening the 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


27 


storm which the fury of the Iconoclasts will cause 
to burst over us ? Do you not see the dark cloud 
gathering in the horizon ? ’’ 

Godmaert was much disturbed as the priest spoke, 
and his head sank upon his breast. After a mo- 
ment’s silence, he replied, sadly : 

^^Yes, I know and see with sorrow that we are 
working against our faith.” 

Joy illumined the lace of the priest. He raised 
his eyes to heaven, and exclaimed : 

“ I thank Thee, 0 my God ! for giving power to 
my words ! ” 

Godmaert cast down his eyes, and moved convul- 
sively, as if agitated by painful reflections. Sudden- 
ly he raised his head, and said, in a kind of frenzy : 

But, Father, must we then submit to the Span- 
iard ? Am I not a soldier ? Do I not belong to the 
Flemish nobility ? Yo, no. I cannot endure their 
contempt, nor stifle in my soul the sentiment of 
honor. The Spaniards are too arrogant, too haughty ! 
We must drive them away ! ” 

The countenance of the priest resumed its sad ex- 
pression, but he said, calmly : 

I know, my son, that the Belgians have many 
causes of discontent against the Spaniards ; but 
shall worldly considerations be placed in the balance 
with your God ? To the guilty desire of vengeance 
will you add contempt of the Creator? Ho, no; 
you are incapable of this. You will not force 
Father Francis to weep over the loss of the soul of 
his best friend.” 

‘‘ What would you have me do? ” asked Godmaert, 
with emotion. 


28 


LUDOYIG AND GERTRUDE. 


‘‘ Support tlie Spanish, government, at least until 
the extinction of the heresy ; induce your friends to 
do the same, and cause the laws to be respected at 
Antwerp.’’ 

‘‘I support the Spaniard? ITever! That is im- 
j)ossible ! ” 

“ If you cannot obtain this victory over your 
pride of country, at least sheathe your sword, and do 
not give aid to the seditious.” 

Grodmaert did not reply for a few moments ; then 
seizing the hand of the priest, he said : 

I am forced to tell you what you do not suspect. 
The revolution, the storm you dread, will burst 
forth in a few days, perhaps before the end of this 
week. Believe me, no human power can prevent it. 
The plans are matured: at the first signal from 
Brussels, the whole country will rise in mass against 
the Spaniards. I foresee, with you, the excesses 
which will be committed by the heretics. Your 
words made me tremble ; but. Father Francis, do 
you think that I would do well to withdraw from 
the cause, I who am the chief of the Antwerp nobil- 
ity ? Can I not more efficaciously protect the reli- 
gion of my fathers by my orders and arrangements, 
than by standing aloof and absenting myself? ” 

Tears shone in the eyes of the priest ; he looked 
fixedly at Godmaert, as if stunned by the intelli- 
gence he had just received. At last he exclaimed : 

‘‘In a few days! AVilt Thou, so soon, 0 Lord, 
visit Thy Church ? Shall I witness the profanation 
of Thy altars ? Shall I hear Thy holy name blas- 
phemed ? ” 

Addressing Godmaert, lie continued : 


LUBOVIC AND GEIITDUDE. 


29 


‘‘I know not what to advise; the terrible news 
bewilders me. But I beg, I conjure you, Godmaert, 
protect the temples of God ; have nothing to do with 
the heretics, unless to combat against them, and let 
not passion obscure your sense of duty. 0 Lord ! 
Thy avenging arm presses heavily upon us.’’ ^ 

He bowed his head, overpowered by his emotions; 
but before Godmaert could reply, a young girl 
entered the room. Her face brightened with joy on 
seeing the priest. She approached him, and passing 
her hand under his arm attempted to raise him, say- 
ing gently : 

“ Come, Father Francis, Messire Ludovic de Hal- 
male is in the library. I am so glad to find you 
'here ; do come ! ” 

The priest gazed with paternal affection upon the 
young girl, and arose, supported by her ; extending 
his hand to Godmaert, he said : 

“I will go and console myself with my dear 
children. And do not you, my son, forget my 
words.” 

Accompanied by the young girl, he left the room 
with tottering steps. 

Godmaert seated himself, and said : 

Yes, my duty is to defend religion and protect 
the temples, but I will never uphold the Spaniards, 
nor will I spare them. Yo, no ; I must be avenged. 
I must deliver my country ; honor imperatively de- 
mands this of me : a soldier cannot permit himself 
to be insulted with impunity.” 

His voice became lower ; his lips still moved, but 
his words were unintelligible. 

An hour later, he was summoned to dinper. He 
3 * 


30 


LUDOVIC AND GERTIIUDE. 


arose, v^ent to the dining-room, and took his seat at 
the head of the table. 

Beside him sat his only and beloved daughter, 
Gertrude, the pearl of her sex. In no other woman 
could so many charms he found united, l^ever did 
painter imagine a lovelier face ; and her noble, beauti- 
ful expression was equalled by her graceful, modest 
deportment. 

A sweet smile lighted her countenance, and as her 
eyes fell upon a young man placed opposite to her, 
they betrayed the sentiments of her heart. This 
young man was her beloved Ludovic. Although he 
did not appear in the least morose, he preserved an 
entire silence. The presence of a guest at the table, 
whose stern eyes roused his fears, prevented him from 
enjoying a conversation as usual with Gertrude. 

The visitor who watched the lovers with so harsh 
an expression was Valdes, a high-born Spanish noble, 
who possessed great influence with the government. 
He was always received cordially by Godmaert, be- 
cause it was dangerous to incur his hatred. A velvet 
cloak, embroidered in gold, was thrown around his 
shoulders. The poniard suspended from his neck 
glittered with precious stones. 

Valdes had expressed his love for Gertrude, but he 
had been politely rejected. For this reason, he ob- 
served the young man with suspicion and a malicious 
curiosity, endeavoring to comprehend his sentiments 
by the glances cast upon Gertrude. 

either Ludovic nor Gertrude loved the Spaniards. 
Godmaert, from political motives, aftected to love 
them. He was the first to break the silence by ad- 
dressing Valdes, hoping to draw from him some in- 
formation which might prove useful. 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


31 


‘‘ Will tlie disturbances soon be appeased, Signor 
Valdes?’’ he said. 

I have heard nothing on the subject, Signor God- 
maert, but were I in King Philip’s place, I would 
soon settle the rabble and the handful of rebel nobles 
who have joined them.” 

‘‘Do you think so, Valdes ? ” replied the Gueux, 
with a bitter smile. “ Know you not that the Flem- 
ish people have never been subdued by violence ? Let 
your king send his whole army into the Low Coun- 
tries ; let him slaughter, if he choose, all the inhabi- 
tants ; and from their common sepulchre our country 
will send forth other opponents against her proud 
oppressors.” 

“ Godmaert, you do injustice to our nation. Why 
do you seek for pre-eminence over the Spanish no- 
bility ? Is not our king right to give the preference 
to his own people over foreigners ? ” 

“ In his own country, yes ; in our country, no ! ” 
“ Poor as you are, of obscure race, devoid of glory, 
would you rashly presume to contend for precedence 
with an illustrious nation like Spain ? ” 

The old Godmaert, who was unprepared for such 
language from his guest, could not, in spite of power- 
ful diplomatic motives, restrain his emotion ; his 
blood boiled, and his eyes flashed with indignation. 

The Spaniard, who was designedly irritating the 
old Fleming, continued with aflected moderation : 

“ Do you not think, Godmaert, that all those dis- 
turbers of the peace, those nobles who assume the 
title of Gueux, would do better to serve Spain, than 
thus to seek to stir up the scum of the people ? ” 

“ Valdes,” replied Godmaert, infuriated, “ you for- 


32 


LUDOVIC AND GERTllUDE. 


get that I am a Belgian. Bo you mean to insult me 
in my own house ? If so, speak out plainly.” 

“ You misunderstand me, noble Godmaert,” replied 
the artful Spaniard. I except you and a few others ; 
and yet even among these, there are some who, but 
for the favor of the king, would be as poor as their 
brethren.” 

“You say that we are poor, Valdes ? Had we, like 
you, drained to the last drop the blood of the people 
of the Yew World, we too would be rich. If we 
demand equality with the Spanish lords, is not our 
claim just, since we are in our own country ? Events 
may prove that we do not consider the foreigners 
our masters ; we will then see if they have the 
courage they boast of in their pride and arrogance.” 

The Spaniard smiled contemptuously, and seemed 
to derive pleasure from the old man’s wrath. 

Ludovic trembled with rage. He had several 
times seized convulsively the hilt of his rapier, but 
an imploring glance from Gertrude had caused him 
to spare the insolent Spaniard. 

Dinner was over. 

“ Gertrude,” said Godmaert, turning towards his 
daughter, “ go to the library with Ludovic.” 

He remained alone with his enemy. 

The library was a vast hall resembling the nave of 
a ^church. A few folio volumes scattered around 
had obtained for it its name. It would have been 
more appropriately called an armory, for several cui- 
rasses, swords, coats of mail, and other implements 
of war, hung against the bare walls. Some paintings 
of Frans, Floris, Hugo, Van Hort, Grinier, and other 
masters adorned one side of the apartment. 


LUDOVIC AND GEPvTRUDE. 


33 


The stained-glass windows prevented the bright 
rays of the sun from penetrating, so that even at 
mid-day there was a soft, dim light. In one corner 
was an oratory, on which stood an ebony crucifix 
and an image of the Blessed Virgin ; before it was 
a prie-Dieu, the spot from which many pure and fer- 
vent prayers had ascended from G-ertrude’s heart to 
the throne of God. 

The lovers entered this hall in silence. 

‘‘ Ludovic, Ludovic,’’ suddenly exclaimed the 
young girl, bursting into tears; “I can no longer 
bear the insults offered to my gray-headed father. 
Their outrages are shortening his life. How often 
we have wept together — 

Her tears choked her utterance. She answered 
Ludovic’s words of consolation only by convulsive 
sobs. 

Gertrude,’’ he said, imploringly, “ compose your- 
self. Bear with patience and resignation the sorrows 
which God sends us as trials. Think how much I 
sufter ; I who am a noble.” 

And he sighed heavily, while an impotent anger 
crimsoned his cheeks. 

Gertrude was not soothed by his words ; on the 
contrary, her usually gentle expression was replaced 
by one of severity. She exclaimed, in a voice inter- 
rupted by sobs : 

‘‘Did you not see with what infernal delight the 
detestable Spaniard infiicted suftering upon my 
father ? Do you not see that these daily insults are 
killing him ? And there is no one, alas ! no one to 
protect him ! ” • 

At these words the whole bearing of the young 

c 


34 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


noble underwent a complete change ; he raised his 
liead proudly, his eyes flashed, and the rage and 
despair of his heart were depicted upon his counte- 
nance. 

Falling at Gertrude’s feet, he exclaimed, impetu- 
ously : You shall no longer accuse me of coAvardice. 
AVhat shall I do ? I am ready to pass my SAAmrd 
through the body of the base Valdes, and tear thence 
his vile heart ! ” 

A cry of agony escaped the young girl. She re- 
coiled in aifright, and pushed Ludovic from her as if 
his Avords had filled her with horror. She noAV saAv 
the effect of her passionate exclamation, and her 
soul was filled Avith sorrow. 

The young man understood her feeling; calming 
his emotion, he approached Gertrude, took her hand, 
'and said, tenderly : 

“ Gertrude, we are both talking Avildly.” 

The young girl, overpowered by the violence of 
her emotion, let her head fall on Ludovic’s shoulder 
and wept bitterly. At last, rousing herself as from 
a painful dream, she arose, knelt upon the prie-Dieu, 
and lifting her soul upon the wings of prayer, she 
implored of heaven a consolation she could not find 
in the company of her betrothed. 

Ludovic contemplated Gertrude Avith a kind of 
ecstasy, and he listened reverentially to her sweet 
voice as she murmured her fervent prayer. The 
name of her old father was frequently repeated. 
Long did she remain boAved in heavenly contempla- 
tion, until at last the young man, yielding to the 
powerful influence of her example, knelt on the floor 
behind her, and he, too, prayed for the country of 
his beloved Gertrude. 


LUDOVIC AND aERTRUDE. 


35 


Rising from her prayer after awhile, she looked 
around for Ludovic, and extended her hand to him. 

‘‘My friend,” she said, “do you not find that 
prayer is a heavenly halm ? ” 

Ludovic, surprised by Gertrude’s change of man- 
ner and expression, could hut gaze upon her in 
silent admiration. At last, seating himself by her 
side, he exclaimed : 

“ Gertrude, my beloved, how beautiful and pure 
is your soul! Your prayers will certainly draw 
down upon us the benedictions of heaven.” 

“ I hope, Ludovic, that the cup of sorrow will 
soon be withdrawn from my father, and then — ” 

“And then,” continued the young man, “the 
priest will bless our union, and together we wfill, by 
our love and care, prolong the days of our father.” 

. A modest blush colored the cheeks of the young 
girl, and she cast down her eyes. In order to change 
the conversation, she said : 

“Is it true, Ludovic, that religion has part in the 
revolt against Spain ? "What a terrible picture 
Father Francis presented to us ! He, wdio is good- 
ness itself, wept in speaking of it.” 

“The holy old man is not mistaken in his fore- 
bodings. You never leave your residence, and there- 
fore you are ignorant of the condition of affairs in 
our city. It is hazardous to acknowledge oneself a 
member of the true Church. The heretics have 
everywhere the ascendency ; they preach openly 
against the faith ; they blaspheme God ; they mock the 
Mother of God. Yesterday, Father Francis, whose 
age and venerable appearance would awe even savages, 
was insulted and hissed in the public street.” 


36 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


Gertrude turned pale, and, raising her eyes to 
heaven, she exclaimed : 

‘‘ 0, my God ! preserve him from harm ! ’’ 

Ludovic resumed : 

And this vile rabble, the scum of other lands, 
collect here in our cities, and the cry, ‘ Long live the 
Gueux ! ’ is forever on their lips. You have no idea 
how odious the words sound when uttered by them.’’ 

He added, in a kind of despa’.r i 

“ Gertrude, I am a Gueux.’" 

The young girl gazed upon him with ineffable 
tenderness. 

‘‘ I know it, Ludovic ; yea obeyed the will of my 
father. He has suffered so much from the oppress- 
ors of our native land, that he considers it a duty to 
liberate the country from their rule. Let us re- 
spect a sentiment, the justice of which we neither * 
can nor ought to judge.” 

^AVhat wisdom is in your words, dear Gertrude! 
Yes, I will obey the commands of Godmaert ; it is 
my duty.” 

Ludovic, you know that I lamented, with Father 
Francis, the perils threatening the faith ; but destiny 
weighs too heavily upon us ; and when I reflect upon 
the humiliation and outrages heaped upon my father 
by the Spaniards, I can but advise you to do his bidding 
without mistrust. I believe that when the decisive 
moment comes, many frightful crimes will be com- 
mitted against our holy religion ; but since there is 
no help for it, we must leave these poor misguided 
people to themselves, and we, the children of the 
true Church, will afterwards restore her to more 
than her former splendor. Promise me, Ludovic, 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


37 


that you will never adopt the opinions of the Icono- 
clasts.’’ 

‘‘ I promise it in the presence of God,” he said, 
solemnly. 

Gertrude resumed : 

“We cannot prevent the peopl(^ from committing 
crimes. Let us encourage the hope that they will 
cease to do evil when the excitement of passion 
passes away. I doubt not — ” She was interrupted 
by the voice of her father ringing in thunder tones 
through the hall. 

“ Spanish dog ! ” cried Godmaert ; “ away with you 
at once! and never again, vile serpent, dare to cross 
the threshold of my door 1 ” 

“ Miserable Gueux,” replied Valdes. “ I know not 
what restrains me from treating you as I would an 
insolent varlet.” 

Godmaert roared with anger, but powerful motives 
restrained him from aven^ino; the insult offered 

o o 

him. 

Ludovic drew his sword and sprang to the door. 
Gertrude caught his arm. 

“ Ludovic, Avhat are you going to do ? ” 

“ Plunge my sword in the heart of the accursed 
Spaniard,” he exclaimed, releasing himself from 
Gertrude’s grasp and rushing from the library. 
Gertrude followed, but endeavored in vain to over- 
take him. 

With a hand doubly strengthened by love and 
hatred, he clasped the throat of the Spaniard so 
tightly, that his tongue protruded from his mouth. 

“ Cowardly insulter of a defenceless old man 1 ” he 
exclaimed, hurling Valdes to the ground ; “ give up 
4 


38 


LUDOVIC AND GERTEUDE. 


yoiir miserable soul to God ; your last hour has 
come.’’ 

And he tightened his grasp upon his enemy’s 
throat until he leftliim lying inanimate upon the 
floor. 

Godmaert, overpowered by rage and terror, fell 
fainting upon an arm-chair. His daughter threw 
herself weeping at his feet, calling him by every en- 
dearing name, as if he could hear her voice. She 
passed her fingers through the silver locks of the 
old man, and sought by her burning kisses to bring 
back warmth to his cheeks. Suddenly she turned 
her head, and saw Ludovic with his arm raised and 
about to thrust his sword into the breast of the 
Spaniard, who had given signs of life. She left her 
father, and, rushing to Ludovic, drew him so violently 
by the doublet that she succeeded in arresting the 
blow. She implored liim not to make himself guilty 
of murder ; but he thought only of satisfying his 
vengeance, and made every effort to shake off* his 
betrothed, who clung to him with the energy of 
despair. 

Ludovic,” she exclaimed, pointing to the inani- 
mate form of her father, behold the victim of your 
fury ! ” 

The young noble dropped his sword and left his 
enemy, in order to assist Godmaert. He took the 
chair in which the old man lay in his powerful arms, 
and carried both into another apartment. Aided 
by Gertrude, he succeeded in restoring him to con- 
sciousness. 

“ Where is he ? ” asked the father in a feeble 


voice. 


LUDOVIC AND GERTDUDE. 


39 


“ He is stretched upon the ground/’ replied Ludo- 
vic. I regret having left him alive.” 

Godmaert would perhaps have pronounced words 
of pardon, hut his daughter’s embraces prevented 
him from speaking. 

Ah ! my beloved father,” she cried, “ God has 
heard my prayer ; you live ! ” and, overcome by the 
violent emotions she had endured, she fainted in her 
father’s arms. 

At that moment the door of the room opened, and 
the Spaniard, boiling with rage, entered. 

There ! there ! Ludovic,” exclaimed Godmaert, 
pointing to a drawn sword ; defend your betrothed 
against that assassin ! ” 

Ludovic seized the sword, and placed himself before 
Gertrude. 

“ Will you again insult an old man ? ” he cried 
out to Valdes. 

‘‘ Ho, Flemish traitors,” replied the Spaniard. “ I 
thus punish all for your audacity,” and he made a 
thrust with his sword at the young man; but Lu- 
dovic, who was very skilful in the management of 
arms, warded off the blows of his adversary. 

The old Godmaert pressed his daughter to his 
heart with anxious solicitude, and encouraged Lu- 
dovic not to yield. . But Ludovic needed no urging, 
for he had already wounded the Spaniard, who rushed 
from the room blaspheming. Ludovic shut the 
heavy door in his face, and left him to vent his fury 
in the hall undisturbed. 

Villains ! ” cried the infuriated Spaniard ; you 
shall soon have cause to repent of your insolence. 
The old Gueux shall change this habitation for a 


40 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


prison. I would sacrifice my name and Iionor, if 
necessary, to deliver him into the hands of the exe- 
cutioner.” He continued to utter menaces and 
threats ; but neither Godmaert nor Ludovic paid any 
attention to them ; they were absorbed by their 
efforts to restore Gertrude to consciousness. At last 
Valdes withdrew, and went elsewhere to meditate 
upon the vengeance to which he had bound himself 
by oath. 

Gertrude, opening her eyes, found herself seated 
between her father and Ludovic. The emotions of 
the three had been so intense that neither spoke for 
some time. Godmaert first broke the silence by say- 
ing: 

‘‘You see well, that the moment has arrived 
to shake off the yoke now weighing upon us. As 
for myself, I shall devote, if necessary, all I possess 
to the cause. Gertrude, I give you to Ludovic, and 
when united to him, you will place but little value 
upon the fortune I might leave you. But remember 
what I have told you : I wish no Spaniard to wit- 
ness your marriage. And you, Ludovic, shall not 
call Gertrude yours until we have become free like 
our fathers. In order to hasten the hour of your 
happiness and our deliverance, go seek Wolfangh 
early to-morrow morning. I regret that circum- 
stances oblige us to make use of this brigand, but 
necessity is an implacable law. If crimes be com- 
mitted, posterity will absolve us in consideration of 
the hatred and resentment inspired by the odious 
despotism of Spain. And, Gertrude, should you see 
the image of your God dying upon the cross tram- 
pled under foot, do not accuse your father of impiety. 


LUDOVIC AND GERTUUDP:. 


41 


You know liow carefully I have educated you in 
those sentiments of piety which are the anchor of 
our salvation — ” 

Oh ! yes, yes, father,” exclaimed Gertrude, inter- 
rupting him ; “ I know that you revere the saints 
reigning in heaven, and that you invoke their inter- 
cession.” 

Godmaert took Ludovic aside, and after informing 
him how to discover the retreat of Wolfangh, he 
handed him a sealed letter, instructing him to place 
it in the hands of the brigand chief. He advised 
him to withdraw at once and make preparations for 
his journey, whilst he and Gertrude would seek the 
repose so necessary after the trial of the day. 

Ludovic bade adieu to his beloved Gertrude and 
her father, who soon forgot in sleep the sufferings 
they had just endured. 


CHAPTER III. 

LUISBEKELAER. 

T he sun had arisen majestically, and its rays, fall- 
ing through the window into Ludovic’s room, 
roused him from an unquiet, disturbed sleep. He 
sprang up, dressed hastily, prostrated himself for a 
moment in prayer, girded on his sword, mounted his 
horse, and traversed the streets which conducted to 
the gate of Kipdorf, 

He was surprised to see a number of armed men 
taking the same route as himself. Very many cava- 
4 * 


42 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


liers passed him, and the streets echoed to the tread 
of horses. Women and children followed in crowds, 
but more slowly. 

Liidovic, who could not comprehend the cause of 
this early walk, approached one of the horsemen, 
armed like the others with dagger and musket, and 
demanded wherefore all these people were going in 
the one direction, and were apparently setting out 
for war so calmly and cheerfully. 

Do you not know, Messire Ludovic,” replied the 
cavalier, recognizing him, that there is to be an 
extraordinary service to-day at Borgerhout ? ” 

“ But why are you armed ? ” 

“ Do you think, Messire, that we would venture to 
go unarmed ? ’’ replied the Gueux, laughing. ‘‘ Were 
we to do so, the Spaniards would not hesitate to 
massacre the whole of us in the public square ; but, 
if they see we are in a condition to defend ourselves, 
the cowardly race would not dare approach us.” 

“ 0, my God ! ” said the young man, would that 
these teachers of new doctrines would quit our 
country ! Messire Schuermans,” he added, I am 
pleased to see .that the consequences of your wound 
were not serious, since you are able to mount your 
horse.” 

‘‘ You are mistaken, Messire ; I still require aid to 
seat myself in the saddle, and sometimes the j)ain is 
acute ; but I do not mind it.” 

He laughed heartily. 

“A little more, Ludovic, and you would have 
taken my life ; but this is nothing — only a slight 
flesh-wound.” 

You p)ardon me, I hope, Schuermans. 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


43 


‘^Undoubtedly; and I must ask forgiveness of 
you for my silly words. 

He took the young man’s hand, pressed it cord- 
ially, and said, expressively: 

“A Fleming nourishes hatred and rancor only 
ao;ainst a foreiocner. We are the best and dearest 
friends.” 

They continued to converse as they rode along. 
Sometimes they were separated by the crowd, but 
they would meet again, and resume the conversation 
which had been interrupted. Occasionally an im- 
prudent passer would exclaim : “ Long Iwe the 
Gueux ! ” but he was soon lost amid the multitude. 
Our two cavaliers at last reached the gate of Borger- 
hout. 

“ Dismount here, Messire Ludovic,” said Schuer- 
mans, “ and taste some of the best beer which is 
brewed at Antwerp.” 

He pointed to a sign on which was artistically 
painted a certain animal, beneath which was the fol- 
lowing inscription : 

At the sign of the Hog is found good cheer, — 

Brandy, wine, ale, and the best Mechlin beer. 

“ Alight, Ludovic ; you will find here the wooden 
bowls of the Gueux. Come, mine host, and aid me 
to dismount. Is the Mechlin beer good ? ” 

“ One should not praise himself,” replied the host, 
as he assisted Schuermans from his horse ; “ the ex- 
cellent drink I will place before you must be its own 
recommendation.” 

A servant led away the two horses, and the Gueux 
entered the inn. After having emptied their first 


44 


LUDOVIC AKI) GEllTKUDE. 


glass, and talked some time upon the present condi- 
tion of public affairs, they remarked a middle-aged 
man, whose hair was just beginning to turn gray, 
regarding them with an expression of anxiety. 

The attire of this individual was not rich, but it 
was clean and genteel. His wrinkled brow and 
melancholy aU'gave evidence that the man, oppressed 
by trials and misfortunes, had grown old before his 
time. Tears were in his eyes, and his head seemed 
bowed by care. Schuermans, who had a good heart, 
could not quietly endure this. He approached the man, 
took his hand, and asked him the cause of his sorrow. 

‘‘Messire,” replied the old man, sadly, ‘‘your 
words have been as so many daggers piercing my 
heart.’’ 

“ Who are you ? ” said Sohuermans. 

“ My name is Louis van Hort.” 

The two Gueux removed their caps respectfully, 
and said : 

“ Hail to the great painter ! Honor to Van Hort, 
our fellow-citizen.” 

The sorrowful artist appeared to appreciate these 
marks of deference, and smiled sadly. 

Ludovic joined them, and asked seriously why he 
was so afflicted. 

“You know not,” he answered, “with what 
tenderness an artist loves his works. The father 
who sees his child exposed to an inevitable mis- 
fortune, weeps over his offspring ; and I lament the 
fate awaiting the paintings which have made our 
city celebrated throughout the world.” 

The two Gueux looked at each other in surprise. 
A moment before, his countenance was inanimate 


LUDOYIC AND GERTRUDE. 


45 


and dejected ; now, it was lighted by a noble, intel- 
lectual expression, and his eyes shone with the lire 
of genius. 

“My heart,” he continued, “was inflamed with 
the love of the art. I have passed my life in con- 
tinued agitation ; although I am still young, my 
hair has grown gray, and my brow is wrinkled — 
and why? because, as God gave His life for His 
creatures, I have worn out my existence in order to 
animate the creations of my pencil.” 

“ I think you have cause to fear,” replied Schuer- 
mans. “ The day upon which our country will be 
rescued from its thraldom, will witness the destruc- 
tion of'many statues and many pictures.” 

“ Yes,” resumed the painter ; “ they will remove 
my paintings from the temple of God ; they will, in 
their fury, tear to pieces the works by which I hoped 
to obtain immortality; they will eflfiace from the 
memory of man my name, and the names of that 
Pleiades of great masters whom our country has pro- 
duced ; and strangers, contemplating the desecrated 
walls of our churches, will weep over the ruins of 
the masterpieces which adorned them ; and they will 
hear away with them the shreds which remain, as 
relics of the art.” 

Ludovic gazed entranced upon the great artist. 
Hever had he beheld in human eye so noble an ex- 
pression. Deeply interested by the impassioned 
words of the painter, he strove to restore him to 
calmness by urging motives for hope ; but Van Hort 
appeared convinced of the immediate destruction of 
the paintings. 

He continued : 


46 


LUDOVIC AND GERTIIUDE 


In the church of Our Lady is one of my pictures. 
I worked on it for a year with ardent devotion ; for- 
getful of all the world beside, I lived with it alone, 
absorbed by the sentiment of my art ; a slow fever 
consumed me; I shortened my life by my labor ; and, 
like the Greek artist, I knelt -and prayed before the 
creation of my hands.’’ 

A deep sigh stopped his utterance. 

Oh ! ” he continued, “ I am disturbed only on 
account of this one picture ; and I have implored 
permission to remove it to a place of safety ; but the 
people with whom I had to deal refused me, — they 
say I sold it to them ! Sold ! yes, I sold it ! Want 
obliged me to it ; otherwise, my Christ would never 
have left my workshop.” 

Schuermans and Ludovie assured him that, were 
it in their power to save his painting, no harm 
should come to it. 

Neither my strength nor my courage will fail 
me,” replied Van Hort, ‘‘to protect or avenge my 
work. I have foreseen all. On the day of the dev- 
astation, armed with musket and dagger, I will de- 
fend my Christ ; and if, touched by impious hands, it 
falls from the wall, I will water it with my blood 
oflered in holocaust to art and God. I will not sur- 
vive my beloved painting.” 

“What matters it,” said the host, interrupting 
him, “ if these pictures should be destroyed ? As 
long as a house is left standing in Antwerp, an 
artist will dwell there.” 

“ Who speaks to you ? ” said Van Hort. “ What 
do you know or understand of such things? But a 
little while ago, you were lamenting with me the 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUD13. 


47 


^danger threatening the treasures of art possessed by 
our city ; and now this is of no consequence, because 
some of the Gueux are your guests. You know but 
one God, the God of gold ; but one art, that of 
making money.’’ 

He took his cap, saluted the Gueux, and left the 
house where he had just wept so bitterly over the 
destruction which menaced the masterpieces of art. 

“ The fellow is silly 1 ’’ said the host, querulously. 

Ludovic and his companion mounted their horses 
and made their way through the crowd to the gate 
of Kipdorf. They quickened their pace and traversed 
the suburb of Borgerhout, and at last arrived at the 
spot where the sermon was to be delivered. 

The place was called at that time Lidsbekelaer. It 
was an extensive piece of ground in the form of a 
triangle, the principal side of which was bordered 
by the stream of the Herenthels. Over this space 
thousands of people were dispersed. All the men 
were armed. A large number were extended on the 
banks of the stream, warming themselves in the 
rays of the moriiing sun ; others, on horseback, rode 
slowly across the wide plain. Towards the centre, a 
considerable group was formed of people chanting 
psalms. Most of the men carried the wooden bowl 
of the Gueux ; and many wore suspended around 
their necks, as a rallying sign, the golden medal and 
wallet. 

Schuermans recognized among them several 
friends. When the hymn was finished, he advanced 
cheerfully to salute them. 

‘‘All goes well!” whispered Van def Yoort to 
him. “ They have published an edict forbidding 


48 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


men to go armed to the sermon ; and the people, « 
formally disregarding this decree, have come in 
larger numbers and better armed than usual, and 
have forced the guards to permit it without inter- 
fering.” 

‘‘ Let the Spaniards alone,” replied Schuermans ; 
they are preparing their own ruin.” 

Herman Stujek, the preacher, ascended an emi- 
nence formed of earth and covered with planks ; 
muskets were fired as a signal for the multitude to 
keep silence. At the same moment, different 
preachers, at various stations of the Luisbekelaer, 
began to announce the new doctrines. 

The vast crowd remained profoundly silent, eager 
to hear that new doctrine which was opposed to 
their enemies — the Spaniards. 

The sermons were all anti-Catholic ; for all who 
addressed the multitude endeavored to incite their 
audience to destroy the images and devastate the 
churches. The people listened with curiosity ; not 
a voice was raised amid this ocean of heads to inter- 
rupt the speakers. 

Having listened for a time with extreme sorrow 
to their pernicious doctrine, Ludovic silently pressed 
the hand of Schuermans, and directed his horse to- 
wards the high road. He found there a dozen cava- 
liers armed with muskets, who were instructed to 
keep at a distance any one who seemed disposed to 
disturb the assembly. They permitted the young 
man to pass unchallenged, and Ludovic soon reached 
the road which was to conduct him to the end of his 
journey. 

He pursued it thoughtfully ; his mind now revert- 


LUBOVIC AND C4ERTDUDE. 


49 


ing to Gertrude, now to her father, the noble old 
Fleming, and then again to the illustrious painter. 
Van Hort. Suddenly his face became clouded, and, 
in his preoccupation, the bridle escaped from his 
hands. His excited imagination conjured up before 
him a thousand horrible scenes. Vividly to his 
mind’s eye arose the sight of multitudes of men 
destroying each other ; among them he recog- 
nized friends and acquaintances ; he saw also the 
preachers of the Luisbekelaer. Torrents of blood 
bowed ; the way was strewn with bodies of the 
dead ; the air was filled with cries of agony. Soon, 
amid this sea of blood, arose before the young man 
a majestic temple. Many priests knelt with uplifted 
hands before the altar. Suddenly, the crowd rushed 
into the temple like wild beasts ; they tore the Lord’s 
anointed from the altar by their white hair, and 
dragged them over the marble pavement, whilst they 
blasphemed the name of God. .Afterwards, he be- 
held the altar defiled with filth ; he witnessed a 
frightful profanation ; he closed his eyes to shut 
out the horrible scene. Soon the voice of God re- 
sounded through the edifice like thunder ; His male- 
diction and His avenging thunderbolts fell upon the 
desecraters ; the walls of the temple crumbled ; the 
earth opened, and from the depths of a sea of fire 
arose piercing lamentations to the ears of Ludovic, 
who was startled from his reverie into consciousness ; 
but so vivid was the picture portrayed by his forebod- 
ings, that its very remembrance made him shudder. 

In about three hours he would attain the end of 
his journey ; but noticing that the atmosphere was 
loaded with heavy vapors, and that dark clouds were 
5 D ^ ■ 


50 


LUDOyiC AND GEDTRUDE. 


slowly gathering above his head, he put spurs to his 
horse, with the hope of being able to accomplish his 
mission before the storm, which threatened to be 
severe, should burst upon him. 

He had passed the village of Schilde, and reached 
the outside of Zoersel, when the lightning flashed 
vividly, and was immediately followed by loud peals 
of thunder. The rain commenced to pour in torrents, 
and it was driven by a strong wind obliquely against 
the rider ; the road became almost impassable ; and 
the horse, terrifled by the uninterrupted play of 
lightning, could with diflS.culty be managed. At 
that moment, Ludovic fortunately perceived at a 
short distance before him a cabin, towards which he 
rode rapidly. 

Who is there ? ” asked a tremulous voice. 

A traveller, who begs a shelter from the storm,” 
replied Ludovic. 

Hearing the gentle tones of the young man, the 
inhabitants of the cabin took courage, and opened 
the door. 

‘Won are w^elcome, Messire,” said a man whose 
form was bent by hard labor ; enter.” 

Ludovic gave his horse to the laborer to be cared 
for, and he entered the humble abode. 

The mother with her four children were kneeling 
in prayer before a statue of the Blessed Virgin. 

“ If the Iconoclasts could see the sweet consolation 
these poor people And in this statue, they would not 
persist in their designs,” thought Ludovic. 

The laborer having attended to the horse, returned 
to his guest. 

“ The weather is detestable, Messire,” he said, 
politely. 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


51 


‘‘ Yes/’ replied tlie young man ; I am fortunate 
in meeting so cordial a reception under your roof.” 

In the meanwhile, the man had placed upon the 
table some bread and butter. 

‘‘ Messire,” he said, “ that is all we have to ]out 
before you ; if you will partake of it, it is oftered 
cheerfully.” 

“ I thank you for your kindness, and I will do 
credit to your repast by my good appetite.” 

Whilst he partook of the humble fare, the weather 
commenced to clear ; the thunder rolled in the dis- 
tance, although the- rain still fell heavily. The 
woman had stirred the tire, and hung Ludovic’s 
cloak before it to dry. The children ran about the 
room like young kids, and by degrees approached 
Ludovic, pointing out to each other the gold em- 
broidery on his dress. At last they became so 
friendly that they seated themselves on his knees. 
The good woman, fearing they would annoy him, 
wished to remove them, but he insisted that she 
would let them alone. 

‘‘ This gentleman loves little children,” she whis- 
pered to her husband, and her eyes shone with 
maternal pride. She was happy to see her offspring 
petted and caressed by so good a gentleman. 

Your poverty,” said Ludovic, is a blessing. I 
assure you, that in the great world of which you 
know nothing, no joys are found as pure as those 
you possess in this cabin.” 

It is true,” said the laborer, “ Grod has not be- 
stowed peace of soul only on the rich ; we also are 
happy.” 

And contemplating his children, he added, with a 


52 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


But, Mossire, reflect upon the sorrow I experi- 
ence when I think of my inability to leave to my 
children the most trifling amount to preserve them 
from want. This is a daily trouble of which you 
are wholly ignorant.’^ 

“True,” said Ludovic; “what would become of 
these children, should you be taken from them ? ” 

“ My father,” said the laborer, “ constructed a 
cabin in the forest ; by hard and continuous labor, 
he rendered fertile a small piece of land ; after his 
death my elder brother inherited it. I, with my 
wife, who was as poor as myself, succeeded by 
assiduous eiforts in building the cabin in which you 
now are ; we imitated the birds of the air which 
build nests for their young. By the blessing of 
heaven, we have lived in peace by the sweat of our 
brow. But should it please God to call us to him- 
self whilst our children are young, before they have 
strength to earn a livelihood for themselves, they 
will be forced to live upon charity.” 

The poor man seemed overpowered by these sad 
reflections. A strange joy shone in Ludovic’s eyes ; 
without making any reply to the anxious father, he 
left the cabin for the purpose of seeking his horse ; 
a few moments afterwards he rejoined the family. 

“I desire,” he said to the father, whilst he opened 
a purse which he held in his hand, “ to reward you 
for the cordial reception you gave me, and for the 
love you testify for your children.” 

He placed upon the table four piles of gold, each 
containing ten pieces. 

“ Here are,” he continued, “ten pieces of gold for 
each of your children. Use them for their advan- 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


53 


tage, and may Grod long preserve you to watch over 
them ! 

Stupefied by the generous act, the good people 
found no words to express their gratitude. They 
regarded each other in astonishment, whilst tears 
fiowed down their cheeks. 

At last the father exclaimed fervently : 

May God shower down upon jo\i and all whom 
you love the benedictions he has promised to the 
merciful ! 

The woman knelt before Liidovic. She pointed to 
the image of the Virgin, saying, with emotion : 

I will never cease to pray for the benefactor of 
my children, Avho has been to us an angel of con- 
solation.” 

She caught Ludovic’s hand and watered it with 
her tears. He in vain endeavored to calm her. 

“ Oh ! Messire,” she said, sobbing, ‘‘ my heart is 
too full of gratitude. Let me thank you for my 
children. Do not withdraw your hand: Grod will 
place to your account all you have done for us ; ” 
and she continued to weep. 

Ludovic, desirous of putting an end to these 
demonstrations of gratitude, asked the man : 

‘‘ Can you tell me where lies the forest of Zoer- 
sel?” 

‘‘ The forest of Zoersel ! ” exclaimed the man, ter- 
rified. Have you any intention of going there ? ” 
I must be there this very day.” 

The peasant placed his hand upon the young 
man’s shoulder, and said, solemnly : 

“ Messire, death awaits you in the forest of Zoer- 
sel.” 


54 


LUDOVIC AND GERTEUDE. 


“ Why so ? ’’ demanded Ludovic. 

‘‘How fortunate you mentioned your design to 
me! I can now save my benefactor from certain 
destruction. Do you know that Wolfangh, a brigand 
and an assassin, dwells in that forest ? Do you know 
that no man has ever penetrated it without paying 
for his temerity with his life ? Day before yester- 
day, a traveller, brave and noble like yourself, was 
found lying at the entrance of the woods. His 
body was pierced by twenty dagger wounds. Grant 
me one favour : return whither you came, unless you 
wish us to deplore jmur death.’’ 

“Whatever danger I may encounter,” replied 
Ludovic, “I must meet this terrible Wolfangh, and 
have a conversation with him. Hothing could in- 
duce me to abandon my intention.” 

“I pity you, Messire,” said the laborer, sadly. 
“ However, I am pleased to have an opportunity to 
testify my gratitude. I will accompany you, even 
against your will.” 

“ ISTo, no,” said Ludovic, interrupting him ; “ I 
will not permit it. If there be peril, I will meet it 
alone. Your children need their father, and I have 
neither wife nor children.” 

“Ho, Messire; I will not obey you.” 

The mother listened anxiously to this discussion, 
and encouraged her husband to disregard the oppo- 
sition of the young man. 

“ Go with him,” she said ; “ shield our benefactor 
from harm. I would not otherwise have a moment’s 
repose.” 

She approached the image of the Blessed Virgin. 

“ Go,” she said, “ 2:0 ! I will remain in prayer for 
both of you.” 


LUDOVIC AND GERTEUDE. 


55 


Ludovic found it was useless to make further 
resistance. 

‘‘ Since you persist/’ he said, ‘‘ follow me. I hope, 
by the blessing of God, to return to take another 
meal under your hospitable roof.” 

The horse was brought to the door, and Ludovic, 
having bade adieu to the woman and her children, 
left the cabin in company with the laborer, in order 
to enter the forest of Zoersel and seek Wolfangh 
and his band. 


CHAPTER IV. 

WOLFANGH. 

T O the left, Messire ! ” cried out the peasant, and 
Ludovic entered a wide road which appeared to 
traverse the forest. On either side was an impene- 
trable underwood, and lofty fir-trees intercepted the 
rays of the sun, which was now high above the 
horizon. 

Whither does this road lead ? ” asked Ludovic. 

‘‘ A few years ago,” replied the laborer, it was 
cut through the forest to facilitate the transportation 
of large trees ; at present it is abandoned by the 
people, and only frequented by the brigands and 
other refugees from justice. During the recent 
period of storm and agitation very few ships have 
been constructed at the dock-yard of Antwerp, and 
consequently the demand for large trees has been 
small. It has resulted from this that robbers have 


56 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


resorted hither without obstacle, as there was no 
regularly organized force in the neighboring villages, 
and the soldiers were unable to leave the cities, as 
there was constant danger of an outbreak.” 

Thus conversing, our travellers reached a thicket 
where the road was lost amid bushes and brambles ; 
they noticed at that spot a stone cross. 

“ Why was this cross placed here ? ” asked Lu- 
dovic. 

In commemoration of a murder committed. If 
you approach the cross nearer, you can read upon it 
the name of the unfortunate man who lost his life at 
that place.” 

Ludovic read: 

D. 0. M. 

HERE LIES 

JOim VAH IIERCK, 

CRUELLY ASSASSINATED 

ON St. Gertrude’s Day, 

A. D. MCXXI. 

Pray for the repose of his soul. 

The laborer uncovered his head and addressed to 
heaven a fervent prayer for the deceased, in which 
he was joined by Ludovic. The young man alighted 
from his horse and knelt piously before the cross. 
His thoughts, however, soon wandered to his 
beloved Gertrude, whose name, inscribed upon a 
cross recalling so bloody a deed, filled him with a 
vague anxiety. 

He knelt some moments in entire forgetfulness of 
all around him, when, turning his head, he perceived 
between the coppice two villanous- looking faces, 


LUDOVIC AND GEETDUDE. 


57 


and two muskets were pointed directly against his 
breast. 

‘‘ Your money or your life ! ’’ exclaimed the two 
men, emerging from the thicket, prepared to take 
from the young noble whichever he chose to sur- 
render. 

“ Here is my purse,” said Ludovic, taken by sur- 
prise. 

Then he added : 

I am on my way to seek an interview with Wol- 
fangh, and I will thank you to inform me where I 
can find him.” 

Lay down your arms ! ” said one of the brigands. 

The young man threw his pistols and sword to 
some distance from him. 

The other brigand, approaching him, said : 

What do you want with Wolfangh ? ” 

“ I have a letter to deliver to him,” replied Lu- 
dovic. 

‘‘ Do you come from the city, and are you a 
Gueux ? ” demanded the brigand. 

I am a Gueux, and I must speak with Wolfangh 
before night.” 

The brigand smiled. 

I know it,” he replied ; my master was in town 
to-day, and learned your intended visit from another 
Gueux. He has been awaiting a young gentleman 
for the past two hours ; and since you are the indi- 
vidual, you may resume your arms and follow us 
without fear into the interior of the forest.” 

The peasant, who had watched with painful 
anxiety the event of the encounter, handed Ludovic 
his arms. 


58 


LUDOVIC AND GEKTDUDE. 


I tliaiik you/’ said the young man, ‘‘ for having 
accompanied me, and I beg you to return immediate- 
ly to your wife and children, in order to relieve their 
anxiety ; in a couple of hours I hope to see you 
again.” 

lie shook hands with the good man, who stood 
riveted to the spot, gazing after Ludovic until he 
disappeared in the thicket. 

One of the brigands took charge of the horse and 
led him through by-paths. The other endeavored to 
be as polite as his rough nature permitted, and he 
strove to draw Ludovic into conversation ; but he 
gave very short and abrupt answers to all the re- 
marks made to him. 

“ Important events will soon transpire, I believe, 
Messire? The city is in a state of agitation, and 
we, too, will have our share in the spoils.” 

I know nothing of it,” said Ludovic. 

“ I know it,” resumed the brigand ; ‘‘ our chief 
tells us that our booty will be such that we can leave 
our present miserable trade, and in future live like 
lords.” 

Whence will you obtain this booty ? ” asked Lu- 
dovic, sadly. 

“ The church of Our Lady contains by itself treas- 
ure enough to enrich our whole band.” 

Ludovic looked sternly at the brigand, and ex- 
claimed, in an indignant manner : 

‘‘ What ! would you dare to pillage the temple of 
God?” 

We did not form the plan,” replied the brigand, 
quickly ; it is you who have put it in our power ; 
and I am confident that the letter you bring con- 


LUDOVIC AND GEIITKUDE. 


59 


tains a promise to give us full liberty to pillage when 
the great clay arrives.'’ 

Ludovic made no reply, but he heaved a deep sigh 
at the thought of the terrible woes which menaced 
his native city. 

After having walked a half-hour through the 
trees and thickets, they at last reached the encamp- 
ment of Wolfangh and his band. 

It was an extensive glade surrounded on all sides 
by thick woods. The brigands had cut down the 
trees and levelled this tract of land, in order to 
make for themselves a comfortable retreat. In the 
centre of the glade arose a large cabin of wood and 
clay ; five cabins of smaller size were scattered 
around, so as to leave a sort of square of unoccupied 
ground. 

As soon as the young man entered this square, his 
guide took from his doublet a bone whistle, and 
thrice the forest echoed the shrill sound he drew 
from it. The signal was returned, and Ludovic was 
introduced into the camp. His guide left him in 
order, he said, to notify Wolfangh of his arrival. 

The young man saw with horror the ferocious ex- 
pression of the faces of the bandits who were scattered 
about the enclosure. Six of the most rep^ulsive 
among them were collected around a large fire, over 
which was suspended a smoking caldron containing 
their evening repast. The light of the red flame 
falling on their cheeks gave them a most fantastic 
appearance, so that they resembled demons rather 
than human beings. At a little distance from these, 
others were casting dice to decide who should possess 
the money spread out before them. They did not 


60 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


for a moment reflect that their stake was the price 
of human blood. They uttered oaths so frightful 
that Ludovic withdrew as far as possible that their 
words might not reach his ears. Others, seated upon 
the ground, polished their muskets or their daggers. 
By their side were large pitchei's, from which they 
poured out the liquor without intermission. At 
Ludovic’s arrival, they were singing in a harsh voice 
a popular song. 

They were all swarthy, and their long hair hung 
uncombed upon their shoulders. Under other cir- 
cumstances, their costume would have provoked a 
smile from Ludovic ; for whilst most of them wore 
a uew doublet of fine cloth, their other garments 
were soiled and tattered. Some wore coats em- 
broidered in gold, over which was thrown a monk’s 
coarse and much -worn cloak. Their arms alone 
were in good condition, and they shone like silver 
above their rags. In a word, they looked like a 
band of masqueraders. Two of them stood before 
the door of the large cabin ; heavy halberds glistened 
in their hands under the rays of the setting sun. 
By order of Wolfangh, they requested Ludovic to go 
to their chief. 

The place he entered was not, we may well sup- 
pose, richly furnished, but everything was extremely 
neat and clean. The walls were whitewashed and 
marbled with different colors ; highly polished arms 
were suspended against them ; a few chairs of some 
elegance were arranged around a table. At tliis 
table Wolfangh was seated. His dress was simple 
and appropriate, such as might be worn by a man 
jWho had never left the city. To judge by liis 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


61 


features, which were still fine, he could not he more 
than forty years of age. Black, sparkling eyes, a 
mouth expressive of hate and resentment, a cold and 
somewhat sad look, such were the marks by which 
a physiognomist might conjecture the character of 
the bandit. 

As soon as he perceived Ludovic, he arose and 
bowed politely to his guest. 

‘‘You are welcome, Messire,” he said, as he placed 
a chair for Ludovic and requested him to be seated. 

“ What news do you bring me ? ’’ he asked. 

Ludovic handed him the letter without speaking. 

Wolfangh broke the seal hurriedly, and having 
read the despatch, he sounded an ivory whistle, and 
two banditti entered. He spoke to them in a 
whisper ; then added, aloud : 

“ At eleven o'clock ! " 

They brought wine and filled the cups. 

“ To the health of the Gueux, Messire ! " said 
Wolfangh. 

“ To the health of the Gueux ! " repeated Ludovic, 
hesitatingly. He put the cup to his lips, but did 
not drink the wine. 

“ Oh! Messire," exclaimed the bandit, much vexed, 
“ my glass is empty. I beg you to pledge me. . . . 
Empty your glass, and after that do as you choose." 

Ludovic drank the wine, but evidently against his 
will. 

“I understand you, Messire," said Wolfangh. 
“ A brigand is too despicable a man to be toasted. 
Yes, yes, I comprehend you." 

A bitter smile fiitted across his face, whilst he 
continued : 

6 


62 


LUDOVIC AND GEDTllUDE. 


Vf hy do you ask my aid, since you despise me ? 
You do not answer. But I know it ; when the blow 
has been struck, we break the instrument which is 
no longer of use to us, and we cast it aside ; is it 
not so, Messire ? ’’ 

Ludovic contemplated the bandit with astonish- 
ment. 

Wolfangh,’’ he replied, “ I am ignorant of the 
contents of the letter I presented to you ; conse- 
quently, I am unable to answer your question. As 
for myself, I can say to you, that if you engage in 
the revolution, you wdll, without doubt, derive great 
personal advantage, if you wish it.” 

What advantage, Messire? ” 

“ Pardon for the past, and the possibility of lead- 
ing in future an honorable and peaceful life under 
the protection of the laws.” 

A smile of satisfaction lighted up the countenance 
of Wolfangh, but this was soon succeeded by an ex- 
pression of discouragement, and he said, shaking his 
head : 

To return, to return. ... it is difficult ! And yet 
I must. I can no longer resist the mysterious voice 
that calls me. Why did men reject me when I was 
innocent ? Yes, Messire, there was a time in my life 
when I, too, was ashamed to drink with a robber.” 

“ That is probable,” replied the young man. You 
must have had strong motives to turn you from the 
path of honor.” 

Yes ; once I was young like you, full of hopes 
which pictured to me the path of life strewn with 
flowers ; hut the wickedness of men broke my heart.” 

“Wolfangh, I see plainly that you were never 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


63 


fitted for the life yon lead. Your countenance does 
not indicate a cruel nature, and your language does 
not betray a savage ignorance. hTothing in you 
gives evidence of the abject being who would shed 
blood with cool deliberation. Return to human so- 
ciety, Wolfangb ; your heart is still open to good 
impressions. Pass the remainder of your days in 
honest labor, and re-enter the path of virtue. Per- 
haps happiness and peace of soul may he the reward 
of your conversion. The mercy of God is infinite, 
and it is proportioned to the number of our sins, and 
the sincerity of our repentance.’^ 

‘‘ Thank you, Messire, for your words of consola- 
tion ; you have a great and noble heart. Had you 
addressed me with disdain and contempt, anger 
would have stified in my heart the good thoughts 
with which I have been inspired ; but you have 
pointed out to me the path to salvation presented 
by the approaching revolution. I assure you, solemn- 
ly, that your suggestions shall not be disregarded. 
The good seed has not fallen on stony ground.” 

Ludovic was touched by the robber’s words and 
expression. ‘‘Wolfangh,” he said, ‘‘great must 
have been your sorrows, when they drove such a 
soul as yours to a life of infamy.” 

“ You are right, Messire. Were I to pour out my 
criminal soul into your noble heart, you would see 
.that my youth was crushed by terrible misfortunes.” 

“Speak, Wolfaiigh; I shall listen to you with 
interest.” 

“ When I relate the cause of my misfortunes, you 
will understand that there are catastrophes in human 
life from the fatal consequences of which it is im- 


64 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


possible to escape. If in my narration yon find 
traces of noble and pure sentiments, think not of 
what I am at the present moment, for circumstances 
have totally changed me. I lived in the village of 
Rethy. I was young, handsome, and well formed. 
None among my companions had a more beautiful 
voice. Do you suppose, Messire, that I took pleasure 
in the praises lavished upon me by my acquaint- 
ances? No: Helen’s voice alone made me happy. 
From early childhood we had been attached to each 
other, and when I attained manhood, the aftection 
which united me to her increased in intensity. Thus 
several peaceful and happy years passed in my native 
village. I awaited impatiently for the time to come 
when Helen would be eighteen years of age, for 
then, with her father’s approbation, I was to lead her 
to the altar ; but fate, whose inexorable decrees are 
not influenced by man’s desires, had steeped my lips 
in the honey of the chalice, and left in the dregs the 
poison-gall which I was to drink to the last drop. A 
great lord of high position at the court of the Em- 
peror Charles, went often to hunt at Postel. One 
day, by chance, he saw Helen, and he was struck by 
her enchanting beauty, her sweet and modest smile ; 
and he determined, in spite of every obstacle, to in- 
duce her to leave her father’s house and go with him. 
Failing in this, he had recourse to violence, and, 
watching his opportunity, he bore her away by force. 
One evening, I waited for Helen in vain. Her father 
was surprised at her absence. Midnight came, and 
still Helen did not return. For two weeks we made 
useless search and inquiries ; no clue could be dis- 
covered to her mysterious disappearance. You can 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


65 


imagine, Messire, better than I can describe, the 
despair of our hearts. Overpowered by grief, I 
wandered about almost frenzied.” 

‘‘I pity you, Wolfangh,” said Ludovic, ‘‘and I 
understand the extent of your sufterings.” 

“ Messire,” replied the bandit, “ pray God that a 
like misfortune may never befall you. Under such 
a blow, you would gladly welcome death. But there 
was still another sorrow in store for me. Thirty 
days exactly had passed, leaving us in the same fright- 
ful uncertainty, when I was seated in the evening 
with the father of my beloved Helen. We were 
weeping and talking of her, when the door was 
thrown open with violence, and Helen herself rushed 
in and threw herself sobbing into the arms of her 
father. Having embraced him with an outpouring 
of filial atfection, she threw herself upon her knees 
before him, and in broken sentences implored his 
pardon for the dishonor she had brought upon him. 
A furious jealousy dried the tears which had been 
fiowing from my eyes. 

“ ‘ Helen,’ I exclaimed, severely ; ‘ where have you 
been ? ’ 

. “ ‘Oh, Wolfangh,’ she cried, ‘leave me ; your gaze 
terrifies me.-’ 

“ ‘ Where have you been ? ’ I repeated, in the same 
tone of voice. 

“ She pointed to the distance, saying at the same 
time : 

“ ‘ I am forever lost to you ! ’ 

“ I could no longer restrain my wrath. Believing 
that she had voluntarily abandoned me, I hurled at 
her every injurious epithet which suggested itself ; 

6* ’ E 


66 


LUDOVIC AND GERTEUDE. 


at each word I uttered, she shuddered with terror 
and shame. I would have continued giving vent to 
my rage, had not her father forced me to silence b}' 
drawing me towards the inanimate form of his 
daughter. What a sentiment of pity possessed my 
heart, when, on contemplating her more closely, I 
noticed her pale and emaciated cheeks and her sunken 
eyes — the proof of the suffering she had endured. 
Bitter was my remorse for my cruel invectives, and 
I implored Helen to pardon me ; but she lay lifeless, 
insensible to my anguish. N'o torture could sur- 
pass the sufferings I endured that night. The next 
day, Helen was insane, and a wild laugh was her only 
rej)ly to our tender expressions of love. The fourth 
day she was stretched upon her death-bed. Her reason 
was restored, and she received the last sacraments. 
When the priest left her, he told me that Helen de- 
sired to see me once more before she died. I entered 
the room to behold her in her agony. 

‘‘ ‘ Wolfangh,’ she said, in a feeble voice, laying 
her icy-cold hand upon me ; ‘ I leave you forever ; 
heaven calls me, the angels await me — ’ 

‘ Helen, in the name of God, speak, and tell me 
what has happened ? ’ 

a i^vV^iiat has happened ? Do you know Bentunaro ? ’ 

“Wes.’ 

“ ‘ Well, he — bore me away — by violence, — and' 
my soul — can — no longer — dwell in my body.’ 

“‘Bentunaro!’ I exclaimed, consumed by the 
thirst of vengeance. 

“ ‘ Bentunaro ! ’ she again murmured. ‘ Adieu, 
Wolfanghl One day you will be with me — in 
heaven — and God — will — ’ 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


67 


‘‘And her soul had left its mortal tenement cold 
and lifeless.’’ 

Tears bedewed the cheeks of the bandit. Ludo- 
vic, moved by compassion, pressed his hand in 
silence. 

“ Messire,” resumed the bandit, “ did Bentunaro 
deserve death ? ” 

“ He did ! ” replied Ludovic. 

“ Well,” said Wolfangh, “ I left my native village, 
carrying vengeance in my heart, and upon my person 
money and a poniard. Long I sought the wretch 
without meeting him; but my burning desire to 
avenge Helen only grew stronger by the delay. 
One day, I was walking at Brussels, along the banks 
of the Senne, when my attention was attracted by 
the loud talking of a party near me. I recognized 
the voice of my enemy. My blood boiled in my 
veins, and my heart beat so violently that it almost 
deprived me of motion ; but vengeance steadied my 
arm, and I plunged my dagger to the very hilt in the 
breast of the villain. I sprang into the Senne, and 
soon swam to the opposite bank. There I stopped 
in feverish joy over my triumph. Two pistol-shots 
were fired at me, but missed their aim. With in- 
describable pleasure I saw my victim writhing on 
the ground, and as soon as I was certain of his death, 
I ran at full speed, in order to escape pursuit. I was 
driven from place to place ; no one was willing to 
shelter me. My father suffered much on my account, 
until at last grief and anxiety carried him to the 
grave. E’owhere could I find an asylum ; and if by 
chance the name of Wolfangh was pronounced on 
the public square, all cried out : ‘ Kill him ! kill 


68 


LUDOVIC AND GERTKUDE. 


him ! ’ as though I were a wild beast. Tell me, Mes- 
sire, what could I do, without a home, without re- 
sources ? After wandering about for a long time as 
chance led, I found a secure retreat in this forest, 
i^ecessity made me a robber ; the pursuit of the law 
made me a murderer. I have suffered much, and 
keen has been my remorse for my culpable life ; but 
fatality was stronger than my will. Receive, Mes- 
sire, my thanks for the means of salvation which 
you indicate. The image of Helen arises in her 
beauty before my eyes, and I trust that her prayers 
will obtain favor for me from God.’’ 

He ceased speaking, and remarking the emotion 
caused in Ludovic by his recital, he arose and said : 

‘‘Messire, I do not wish to detain you longer. 
Tell Godmaert that I accept his conditions, and that 
I will send a spy into the city, that I may have in- 
formation as to the progress of affairs. Let him 
arrange all things, and the day of the revolution 
Wolfangh and his band will be there to give their 
aid.” 

‘‘One word more before leaving you, Wolfangh. 
One of your men expressed to me the intention of 
pillaging the churches.” 

“ They suppose they will be permitted to do so ; 
but have no fear ; my will is a law they dare not 
violate.” 

“ That is not the only request I have to make. I 
wished to suggest an opportunity of performing an 
action which would merit for you the pardon of 
your guilty life.” 

“ Speak, Messire ; I am ready to adopt any plan 
you propose.” 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


69 


u Perhaps, 'Wolfangh, you do not know that many 
of those who call themselves Gueux belong to the 
sect of Iconoclasts, and they eagerly await the day 
of the revolution in order to destroy all the emblems 
of our religion.’’ 

‘‘ I know it, Messire.” 

Then aid me and my friends to protect the 
churches. I foresee great difficulties, but perhaps 
we may be successful in our efforts.” 

An expression of satisfaction illumined the coun- 
tenance of the brigand. He caught Ludovic’s hand, 
and said, earnestly : 

‘‘ Messire, you shall be satisfied with Wolfangh.” 

An armed bandit was directed to guide Ludovic. 
He conducted him to the edge of the forest ; there 
the young man took the road leading to the cabin 
of the laborer. He would undoubtedly have lost his 
way in the darkness of the night, had not the grate- 
ful peasant, anxious for the safety of his benefactor, 
placed a light within the window. This beacon 
guided Ludovic to the isolated house. Joyous accla- 
mations greeted his entrance, and the peasant invited 
him to partake of some refreshments. The young 
man gladly seated himself at the table, and, to the 
great contentment of his hosts, did credit to the fru- 
gal repast with better appetite than if he had been 
a guest at a royal feast. 

“ Messire,” said the peasant, “ it is midnight; and, 
as the road is infested with robbers, I beg you to 
pass the night in my humble dwelling.” 

Saying this, he pointed to a bed prepared with 
clean sheets. Ludovic, thinking that it would be 
impossible at that late hour to inform Godmaert of 


70 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


the success of his mission, determined to accept the. 
offer of the laborer, and he threw himself upon the 
bed, fatigued, but satisfied with the result of his 
expedition. 


CHAPTER V. 

VALD^S’S REVENGE. 

\ 

T he very day that Ludovic had left for the accom- 
plishment of his mission, both mind and heart 
occupied by the image of his beloved Gertrude, there 
transpired at the residence of Godmaert events which 
were to cost him many hours of sorrow. 

It was two o’clock in the afternoon ; Godmaert 
and his daughter were seated together in conversa- 
tion upon indifferent subjects. 

Suddenly, Gertrude asked : 

“Father, has Yaldes the power of executing the 
threats he uttered against you ? ” 

“What threats, my child?” said the astonished 
Gueux. 

“ The servants say that he swore to have you cast 
into prison. Did you not know it ? ” 

“Into prison!” he exclaimed, whilst his counte- 
nance expressed an intense anxiety. 

“ Gertrude,” he continued, sadly, “ the Spaniard is 
a rich and artful man. My child, should fate sep- 
arate you from your old father, would you have 
fortitude to bear the blow? ” 

“But, father,” replied the terrified young girl, 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


71 


“ you have committed no crime ! The judges would 
soon he convinced of your innocence, and they would 
never suffer you to he imprisoned.’’ 

‘‘ My child, you do not know the world. It is 
quite probable that they may send armed men to 
seize me. Although our enterprise is praiseworthy, 
we are offenders according to existing laws ; because 
we revolt against the reigning sovereign. I fear 
nothing for myself, but much for you, my beloved 
daughter, who have already endured so many sorrows 
on my account. . 

“Were you to see,” he continued, tenderly caress- 
ing her, “ a hand of soldiers enter the room, and 
carry oft* your father, would you at my solicitation 
await with resignation the happy or unhappy issue 
of the affair, without aggravating by your tears the 
trial to which I would be subjected ? 

“ Gertrude, you do not answer.” 

“ Oh ! yes, father,” said the young girl, “ I would 
not leave you ; I would console you by my love.” 

“But suppose you could not accompany me, that 
! we must part without being able to foresee the term 
of our separation ? ” 

I Gertrude wept bitterly, and replied only by her 
j sobs. 

“ My child,” said the old man, embracing her, “ be 
courageous, have fortitude.” 

“ Oh ! no, no,” she said ; “ fate has not in store for 
us so hard a trial.” 

“ God grant that what you say be true ! ” replied 
the Gueux, doubtfully. 

He knocked upon the table. At the signal, the 
old Teresa entered. 


72 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


‘‘Teresa,” said Godmaert, “ attend to tlie directions 
I am about to give you. I know your aftection for 
my daughter. You have long been as a mother to 
her. Perhaps to-day or to-morrow Antwerp may 
be in flames, and its streets may run with blood. I 
will not desert my friends, and, much as I value life, 
I will cast my life in the scale ; in the name of my 
country and my honor, I commit Gertrude to your 
care. From this moment do not leave her, for the 
storm is gathering fast above our heads.” 

A piercing cry escaped Gertrude’s lips. 

“ 0 my God ! they come ! ” she exclaimed, in an- 
guish. 

A confused sound of voices was heard in the hall. 

“ Come and embrace me, my child, and do not 
despair. God will protect me from harm.” 

The young girl sobbed aloud. By Godmaert’s 
order, Teresa drew her by force from the room. 

“ Gertrude may be mistaken,” said Godmaert. 

But she had perceived the soldiers in passing, 
and long did her apartments echo to her cries of 
anguish. 

The captain approached the Gueux, and read to 
him an order from the governor, by which he was to 
be conducted to the citadel as a prisoner of state. 
The old man cast his cloak around his shoulders, and 
followed the captain without uttering a single word. 
At the outer door were stationed a score of soldiers 
appointed to escort him, and a large crowd had col- 
lected, awaiting with curiosity the appearance of the 
prisoner. As soon as the people saw Godmaert, a 
cry of vengeance escaped from the multitude ; but 
any demonstration was soon checked by the armed 


LUDOVIG AND GERTRUDE. 


73 


soldiery, and they conducted the Guenx to the cita- 
del without being obliged to use violence. 

There, Godmaert saw the cruel Valdes. For- 
tunately for him, the old man was unarmed, or he 
would have paid with his life for hi&>triumphant 
smile. 

The prisoner was conducted to ji deep and dark 
dungeon; they chained him to the, wall, placed by 
Ills side a loaf of bread and a pitcher of water ; then 
leaving, him, they fastened the door with lock and 
bolt. 

The unfortunate father cast himself upon the damp 
straw in an agony of grief. He gave not a thought 
to the fate which might await him; but the tears 
of his beloved Gertrude, and the separation from a 
daughter so dear to his heart, were afflictions which 
he found difflcult to support. A cry of rage and 
vengeance burst from his lips, and the walls echoed 
the name of Valdes the traitor. 

Whilst the old man was thinking in anguish of 
his daughter, Gertrude, overpowered by sorrow and 
despair, had fallen upon ^ chair. She could not 
realize what had passed. The misfortune appeared 
too frightful to be real, and she strove to persuade 
herself that her old father had not been led away by 
the soldiers. Her grief so exhausted her, that it at 
times deprived her of consciousness, and she awoke 
to the reality only again to fall inanin^ate. 

Go, Teresa,’’ she ^aid> at last, “ find Fathen 
Francis; he can tell me \yhat to do.” 

You forget. Miss, that Father Francis has gone 
with the Abbot of Saint Bernard.” 

Alas ! that is true. Suggest some means by 
7 " ■ 


74 


LUDOVIG AND GEETDUDE. 


wliicli I may see my father. Advise me ; Avliat step* 
can I take ? ’’ 

I know none, unless by entreaties and bribes we 
can gain the gaoler of the citadel.’’ 

Come,” exclaimed Gertrude ; “ we will go at once ! 
I have money, and words will not fail me. Love 
and sorrow will give me power to touch the heart 
of the gaoler.” 

You have no idea. Miss, how hard-hearted these 
people are. If money will not buy him, we have 
nothing to hope for.” 

^‘Come, come,” said the young girl, eagerly; 

should he have a heart of stone, it will melt before 
my prayers and supplications.” 

I will accompany you in your attempt to see 
your father; but be more calm, and do not let your 
grief make you lose sight of a necessary prudence.” 

Gertrude threw on a black silk over-dress, and set 
out with Teresa for the citadel. 

After having passed many groups of people, some 
of whom regarded with pity, others with cold curi- 
osity, the unhappy young girl, they reached the 
prison, which v^as surrounded by high and thick 
walls. 

Is my father here ? ” asked Gertrude, in an agony 
of grief. 

^‘I think so,” replied Teresa. “Have courage, 
Gertrude.” 

She knocked at the door, which was soon opened, 
grating harshly on the hinges, and they were ushered 
into the narrow apartment of the gaoler. 

“ What do you wish, noble lady ? ” said the gaoler, 
bowdng to Gertrude. 


LUDOYIG AND GEDTEUDE. 


75 


“ Ls my father here ? ’’ 

Yes, lady ; if Godmaert is your father.’’ 

“ Yes, yes, Godmaert. I know you will take pity 
on my sorrow, and you will permit me to console 
my old father for awhile. Oh ! do not refuse me ! I 
implore you to grant my' petition. If you have 
children, you will understand how much I sufter. 
Let me hut hear my father’s voice, and I will recom- 
pense you generously.” 

“Lady,” replied the gaoler, sadly, “but a half-hour 
ago. Signor Valdes conveyed me an order, signed 
by the governor, forbidding any interview between 
Godmaert and his friends. I am truly sorry that I 
cannot consent to what you ask.” 

Gertrude wept anew ; then taking the gaoler’s 
rough hands in her own, she exclaimed, earnestly : 

“ I implore, I supplicate you, have compassion on 
a child whose father has been cruelly torn from her. 
Oh! be not deaf to my prayer. Let my petition 
move your heart! You are' a human being, and you 
are not devoid of human feeling ; you cannot see my 
tears without being touched by some sentiment of 
pity. I will not go without seeing my father. I 
will remain and weep until you. yield and conduct 
me to his prison.” 

“ Oh I” said Teresa, “ take her to her father, or she 
will die of grief.” 

The keys hanging at the girdle of the gaoler 
jingled, and the two supplicants, thinking he was 
about to grant their request, joined their hands in a 
transport of joy, and were commencing to express 
their gratitude, when the gaoler, who had stepped 
aside in order to wipe away his tears, approached 
Gertrude, and said : 


76 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


Yonr sorrow makes me weep. This proves how 
interested I am in your misfortunes ; but I am bound 
by my duty, and I can do nothing for you. Do not 
think you can move me by tears. I have seen too 
much of suffering and despair. I am a gaoler. Ask 
whom you will, what is a gaoler, and the answer will 
be that he is a tiger, and such he is, and such he 
must be.” 

At these words he withdrew, leaving the two 
women to their grief. 

He is unmoved,” said Gertrude, sobbing. You 
were right, Teresa; a gaoler is not a man. We will 
ask help from our friends.” • 

They left in deeper despair than on their entrance. 
Gertrude’s first thought was to apply to Schuermans, 
the poor but generous Gueux. ’ They walked rapidly 
towards the Klaydorp, There the door of an old 
dilapidated house was opened to their knock. 

0 Schuermans ! ” cried Gertrude, do you know 
what has happened to m'y father to-day ? ” 

‘‘Yes,” replied the Gueux, inviting her in; “I 
know all. Be calm, do not weep. The traitor Val- 
des did it. But I have sharpened my dagger; he 
thinks not of that.” 

“ Tell me, Schuermans, for the love of God, if there 
is any way by which I may see my father ? ” 

“ Yone,” replied Schuermans. “ I myself in vain 
begged admittance during a whole hour.” 

“ Reflect well if some hope may not remain. Men 
know better than we what should be done.” 
Schuermans gazed with pity upon Gertrude. 
“Poor child ! ” he said with a sigh, and shrugging 
his shoulders as if in despair. “ Yo, Gertrude, there 


LUDOVIC AXD GEllTKUDE. 


77 


is no hope for you. I can only advise you to await 
in your own apartment the result of this aftair. I 
myself will assemble our friends, and if I can miti- 
gate your sufferings, I will go to you immediately. 
"Where is Ludovic de Halmale ? he added. 

‘‘ Ludovic is absent on important affairs,’’ replied 
Gertrude. “ Oh ! if Ludovic were here, I would soon 
see my father.” 

^WVhere did he go? ” 

To Zoersel, to see "Wolfangh.” 

‘‘lie will he here to-morrow by daylight. Go, 
Gertrude, and calm yourself. The tears you shed 
will not alter the facts of the case. Think that de- 
voted friends are watching with solicitude over the 
life of your father. And now, farewell. I will leave 
nothing undone to change your sorrow into joy.” 

The two women returned home without consola- 
tion and completely discouraged. 

“ What shall I do now ? ” exclaimed Gertrude. 

“Ee patient, and put your confidence in God,” 
replied Teresa. “ Schuermans was right; tears will 
do no good. Therefore await hopefully Ludovic’s 
return.” 

“ Tears ! ” said Gertrude, with a sigh. “ I can weep 
no more ; my eyes are burning ; my heart is broken. 
Oh ! Teresa, how miserable I am ! And yet, I have 
always acquitted myself faithfully of my duties 
towards God and man.” 

“ Gertrude, Gertrude, would you irritate the Most 
High, v/ho is the only hope and consolation remain- 
ing to you upon earth ? Will you draw down upon 
your head an increase of misfortunes by rebelling 
against Ilis decrees ? ” 

7 ^ 


78 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


Pointing to the prie-Dieu, she said, gravely : 

Gertrude, you have done wrong ! ’’ 

The young girl prostrated herself before the cruci- 
fix, and remained a long time in prayer. Teresa, 
knowing well that humble prayer soothes more than 
complaint, left Gertrude undisturbed, and knelt by 
her side. 

The sun had disappeared for some time below the 
liorizon, and the streets of Antwerp were plunged in 
darkness, before Gertrude arose from her knees ; then 
casting herself into Teresa’s arms, she exclaimed : 

I did not pray ; I did not think of God for one 
moment ; I am a poor, unhappy sinner.” 

Of what were you thinking ? ” 

Of my father, of Ludovic ; and I have offended 
God because I found no consolation at the foot of the 
cross.” 

Her eyes wandered wildly. 

Gertrude, my poor child,” said Teresa, pressing 
the young girl to her heart, ‘‘ what is the matter ?” 

If I only knew, Teresa, what my father is doing ! 
I believe he is dead ; that is the reason I could not 
pray,” 

She struck her breast, and paced the floor in ex- 
treme agitation. 

‘‘ Gertrude,” said Teresa, I do know a means by 
which you can be brought near your father.” 

Speak, Teresa, quick ; tell me what it is.” 

‘‘ Ho you know the street John-de-Lierre ; it crosses 
this one ? ” 

Yes,” replied Gertrude. 

‘‘ Living there is an old woman ; if you have the 
courage to accompany me to her house, she can tell 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


79 


you wliat you wish to discover, and you may depend 
upon the truth of the information she gives.’’ 

‘‘ Do you speak of the old woman commonly called 
the sorceress ? ” 

The very person.” 

“ Do you think she can tell me what my father is 
doing and suffering ? ” 

“ Yes, my child. I acknowledge, to my shame, that 
I have often consulted her, and she has never told me 
Avhat is untrue.” 

Gertrude insisted upon going to her immediately. 

' ‘‘ Who knocks at my door at this late hour ? ” was 
asked from the interior of the house. 

‘‘Open, Mother,” replied Teresa. “You know 
your neighbor ? ” 

“ Wait until I strike a light.” 

The door was opened slowly and cautiously. 
When she had recognized her two visitors, she 
ushered them into a very small room. 

A cry of terror escaped from the frightened Ger- 
trude, and she recoiled at the threshold, not daring to 
enter. 

“Walk in. Miss,” said- the sorceress. “I assure 
you that you have nothing to fear.” 

Gertrude entered the apartment trembling and 
clinging to Teresa. 

Disorder and uncleanliness characterized the room ; 
two chairs were placed near a massive table, on which 
were laid a large book, a dagger, a pack of cards, and 
the skeletons of several small animals. Two black 
cats were asleep on the chairs. At the entrance of 
the visitors, they arose, and their movements were so 
strange that one might have supposed them endowed 


80 


LUDOVIC a>;d gektrui>e. 


with intelligence. A death's-head was on the mantle- 
piece. The sorceress was a frightful-looking old 
Vvmman, apparently about a hundred years old. Deep 
wrinkles furrowed her face, over which her white 
hair fell in disorder. She fixed her yellow eyes on 
Gertrude, wdro v/as a prey to the keenest anxiety. 

“ What causes you, my noble lady, to visit a poor 
old woman like myself so late at night ? Do you 
wish me to tell your fortune by my cards ? " 

And she commenced shufiling the cards. Eemov- 
ing the skeletons from the table, she spread out the 
cards ; and after examining them, she said : 

Approach the table. Miss ; you have nothing to 
fear. Do you see this king of spades ? " 

Yes," replied Gertrude. 

‘‘ That is your father. At this moment he is very 
unhappy. I see by the cards that he is weeping and 
gnashing his teeth." 

Gertrude shuddered with horror. 

Yv^ait, wait awhile," said the sorceress ; “ do you 
see that two of clubs ? They are two days of suffer- 
ing. The ten of clubs indicates that this suftering 
will be extreme. But have patience! Something 
better is in store for him. The king of diamonds 
near by will deliver your father by coming to his 
aid." 

Y/ho is it ? " demanded Gertrude. 

I do not know his name," replied the old woman ; 
but I see that it is a man who has committed many 
crimes in his life, and who lives in the woods like a 
wild beast." 

Wolfangh 1 " murmured Gertrude. 

This knave of hearts," pursued the sorceress, is 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


81 


a young man who loves you tenderly, and who has 
not ceased thinking of you during the past day.’’ 

Does he know what has happened to my father? ” 
demanded the young girl. 

“ JSTo ; otherwise he would be near you to share 
your sorrow. At his side is the queen of hearts. 
That is yourself, lady ; you will one day be happily 
united with him. Those diamonds show that at this 
very moment papers are being written concerning 
your father, and this king of clubs with the knaves 
appear to me to he his judges. I am convinced that 
your father is now before a tribunal. I know still 
more, but it would cause you much pain.” 

‘‘ As it is, we have learned very little,” said Teresa. 

What ! ” exclaimed the old woman. Have you 
not discovered that in a short time your sorrow will 
be at an end ; and is it not better for me to conceal 
what would afflict you more deeply ? ” 

“ Ifo,” replied Gertrude, extremely agitated ; tell 
me all you know, and I will reward you gener- 
ously.” 

It is your own desire. Miss. You hear her words, 
Teresa?” 

Yocturnal messengers,” she said to the cats, do 
my bidding.” 

The two black animals disappeared from the room 
with frightful howls. 

“ 0, my God ! ” exclaimed the young girl, press- 
ing close to Teresa ; the demons from hell dwell 
here.” 

“ It is as you say,” replied the sorceress ; but do 
not disturb me in my incantations.” 

She took an iron cup and placed it on a gilded 
F 


82 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


tripod. She thrice rubbed a piece of purple silk 
upon the death’s-head, steeped in a liquid from a 
phial, then threw it into the cup. A bluish flame 
arose in circles. The sorceress took her book of 
magic, and, having passed her withered hand several 
times over the flame, she turned the pages, and mut- 
tered some words which had a frightful sound. She 
ran three times around the table and invoked the 
infernal spirits. 

The cats returned mewing. 

It is easy to understand that the poor girl was 
terrified, but suffering had so exhausted her that 
her sensibility was somewhat deadened. Teresa 
shuddered -in every limb ; but her curiosity was 
greater than her terror, and as she had, on former 
occasions, been present at such scenes, she was ena- 
bled to support Gertrude. 

Tell me, now,” she said, taking the young girl’s , 
hand, will you be angry with me, if, when I have 
shown you the truth, your grief is increased ? ” 

‘‘No,” replied Gertrude, trembling; “did I not 
ask it myself ? ” 

“ Will you see your lover ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“Approach the fireplace. You are afraid of the 
cats ? Go,” she cried out, and the two animals dis- 
appeared. 

She took the death’s-head and placed it on the 
table. 

“ Approach, Miss, and look in this mirror,” and 
she drew a curtain which covered a glass hanging 
above the fireplace. 

“ I see Ludovic asleep,” said Gertrude. “ Look, 


LUDOVIC AKD GERTRUDE. 


83 


Teresa, liow tranquilly lie reposes. A man ^vatclies 
over liim with solicitude. A sweet smile is on his 
lips — he dreams.’^ 

“ Yes,’’ said the old woman; ^‘he is dreaming of 
you.” 

The calm sleep of her betrothed seemed to give 
Gertrude some consolation. 

Does this young gentleman resemble your 
lover?” 

‘‘Yes, it is himself,” replied Gertrude. “When 
shall I see him ? ” 

“ To-morrow, at sunrise,” answered the old woman. 

Gertrude rejoiced that she would soon have Ludo- 
vic to aid her. 

“ Yow, will you see your father ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ Then step aside.” 

She let fall the curtain which covered the mirror. 

“Have patience, Miss, until the apparition is 
formed. You are about to witness a terrible scene, 
and perhaps you may not have strength to endure 
the emotions of your heart.” 

“You mistake,” said Gertrude. “Show me my 
father alive, and my courage will not fail.” 

“Then place yourself before the glass,” said the 
sorceress, raising the curtain. 

Scarcely had her eyes fallen upon the mirror, 
when she shrieked with horror, and fell senseless 
to the ground. Teresa began to weep bitterly 
over the inanimate form of her mistress, and to 
lament the many sufierings she had endured that 
day. 

“ I knew what wnuld be the consequence. Did I 


84 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


not foretell it? But I can recover her from this 
swoon.’’ 

“What did she see? ” demanded Teresa. 

“ Look yourself,” said the sorceress, pushing her 
before the mirror. 

Teresa recoiled, screaming aloud. 

What had they seen ? The old Godmaert in the 
midst of executioners, subjected to horrible tortures; 
his features contracted by pain, and the blood flowing 
from his body. The sight had almost broken his 
daughter’s heart. 

“ What can I do with my poor mistress in this 
condition ? ” said Teresa, sobbing. 

“ Here is a phial,” said the old woman, “ the con- 
tents of which will revive her. When I will have 
given her this, she will arise and follow you home 
in silence. She will entirely forget what has passed. 
Put her to bed immediately ; the voice of her lover 
alone will rouse her from her sleep. I hope, when 
you see the accomplishment of the events I have 
predicted, that you will not forget me.” 

She poured slowly into Gertrude’s mouth the con- 
tents of the phial. She arose, and stood immovable 
without speaking. 

“Walk before her, Teresa,” said the sorceress. 
“ Be not disturbed about the young lady ; she will 
follow you step by step. Farewell. Bo not speak 
toiler; she would not understand you.” And the 
door closed behind the two women. 

Teresa walked in the direction of their residence, 
and, glancing behind her, she saw that Gertrude was 
quietly following. When they had arrived at home, 
the young girl permitted herself to be undressed. 


LUDOYIC AND GERTRUDE. 


85 


and no sooner was she laid upon the bed than she 
fell into a deep sleep. 

Teresa sat by her side to watch her, but fatigue 
and excitement overpowered her, and she, too, slept 
heavily. 


CHAPTER VI. 

GODMAERT BEFORE THE TRIBUNAL. 

W E will go back in our narrative, and see if the 
sorceress, in showing her father to Gertrude in 
so horrible a condition, had presented a picture of 
the reality. 

The Spaniard, Valdes, had been present when 
Godmaert was arrested, and he remarked, not with- 
out apprehension, that the people sympathized with 
the Gueux. He had been filled with anxiety when 
the murmurs and cries of deliverance had arisen 
from the crowd. But no sooner had the doors of the 
prison closed on his victim, than he took measures 
to expedite the examination of his accusations. 

Godmaert lay on the fioor of a dungeon, into 
which neither light nor air penetrated. He thought 
of his daughter’s grief, and bitter tears fiowed down 
his cheeks ; so wholly absorbed was he in these 
thoughts, that he was insensible to the pressure of 
the iron chain around his waist. The time he had 
passed in prison seemed to him very long, although 
the rays of the setting sun still illumined the 
walls of the citadel. 

8 


86 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


At ten o’clock in the evening, the door of his 
dungeon was opened. 

“ Godmaert,” said the gaoler, arise. I am directed 
to conduct you before the tribunal.” 

He unloosed the chain by which he was fastened 
to the wall. Two armed men seized the old man, 
and led him through several dark passages into a 
vast hall, arched like a church. The ceiling was 
very low, and the smoky lamp which burned upon 
the table enlightened it sufliciently to make all 
objects in it visible. A large wooden crucifix skil- 
fully carved, and a book of the Gospels with a silver 
clasp, lay on the table. Two daggers, crossing each 
other, the symbol of a bloody justice, were placed 
upon the open book of the Gospels. 

At a second table were seated four persons, dressed 
entirely in black ; by their grave and serious coun- 
tenances, they might be easily recognized as judges. 
Paper and pens were placed before them, that they 
might note the acknowledgments of guilt which 
they expected from the accused. At the door of the 
room stood two armed men, with dravv^n swords in 
their hands. 

At the other end of the apartment might be dis- 
covered, by the dim light of the lamp, some instru- 
ments heaped upon the floor; there were wheels, 
ropes, benches, and chains, with others of a similar 
nature. These were instruments of torture which, 
at that period, were used in all important trials to 
force the accused to confess his crimes. 

Godmaert gazed with horror upon these bloody 
auxiliaries of the law ; but he shuddered still more, 
when, casting his eyes around, he saw in a dark cor- 
ner of the hall his enemy, Yaldes. 


LUDOVIO GERTRUDE. 


87 


‘‘ Bring forward the prisoner,’’ said one of the 
judges, and Godmaert was conducted by the armed 
men before the table. 

Having conferred a few moments with his col- 
leagues, the president of the tribunal turned to God- 
maert, and said : 

“Approach nearer. Place your hand upon the 
image of your Saviour and the book of Gospels, and 
swear that you will tell the truth, and nothing but 
the truth.” 

“ I swear by the God who hears me ! ” said God- 
maert, laying his hand upon the crucifix. 

“ Return to your former place, and listen atten- 
tively to my words. The troubles which agitate the 
Low Countries, and the audacity of the Iconoclasts, 
have induced the government to use no clemency, 
but to proceed with rigor against disturbers of the 
peace. You are known, Godmaert, to be one of the 
leaders ; your life is forfeited to the law ; but in con- 
sideration of the eminent services which you for- 
merly rendered our Emperor Charles, I have been 
fully empowered to act in your regard with extreme 
indulgence. I can liberate jon at once, if you will 
swear that in future you will not take part in any 
movement against the Spanish government, and that, 
if you should be requested to join the insurgents, 
you will openly oppose them.” 

Godmaert was stupefied by these words ; but he 
saw Valdes’s smile of triumph, and, regarding his 
judges fixedly, he proudly replied: 

“ A soldier never betrays his friends. I consider 
the Spanish supremacy' a misfortune to my country ; 
and if left at liberty to act according to my sense 


88 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


of justice, I will combat against it at the risk of my 
fortune and life.’’ 

Is this your definitive reply, Godmaert ? ” 

. It is my irrevocable determination.” 

It pains us to have recourse to the rigors of the 
law in the case of so illustrious a noble as yourself. 
But, as officers of the state,' we must do our duty 
without faltering.” 

Do what you consider your duty. I will do 
mine.” 

Reply, then, to my interrogatories. You are ac- 
cused, in the first place, of being chief of the Gueux 
of Antwerp, and of having sworn a mortal hatred 
to the government of Philip II.” 

‘‘ It is true,” replied Godmaert, in a firm, decided 
tone. 

Of having sought to cause a revolution among 
the people, and of using every means to excite an 
aversion towards the present government. It is 
said that you describe the Spanish domination as 
false and tyrannical ; that you assist at assemblies 
which deliberate on the means of withdrawing the 
Low Countries from the obedience they owe their 
lawful sovereign.” 

“ I have urged the people to revolt ; I have pic- 
tured the Spanish rule such as it is, — odious and 
tyrannical. The accusation is true.” 

‘‘All that is true, and you acknowledge it with so 
much cool indifference ? ” 

“ Should I tell a lie, after having sworn to tell the 
truth ? ” 

The judge shook his head in astonishment. He 
turned towards the clerk and conversed with him for 


LUDOVIC AND GEUTIIUDE. 


89 


several minntes. Then pursuing his interrogatories, 
he said to Godniaert : 

‘‘Moreover, you are^ accused of having addressed 
to the government, under the form of a petition, a 
defamatory engraving/’ 

“ That is false ! ” exclaimed Godmaert, indignantly. 

“ Of having yourself circulated among the people 
copies of this engraving.” 

“ I tell you that is an odious falsehood. I have 
never even seen this engraving. What traitor dares 
bring against me this infainous charge ? ” 

“Valdes,” said the judge, “he denies the accusa- 
tion ? ” 

Valdes approached ; he had already arranged the 
words in which he would impute the offence to his 
victim. 

“ Godmaert,” he said, in a hypocritical tone, “ you 
must certainly remember that one day, when I w^as 
dining with you, you showed me an engraving in 
which the government was px’esented under the most 
insulting design.” 

“You lie, Valdes, you lie,” exclaimed the old 
Gueux, contemptuously. 

“ Silence, prisoner ! you are forbidden to speak. 
"What was the design of the engraving ? ” 

Valdes replied: 

“ The government was represented as seated in a 
child’s chair, presenting the most ridiculous appear- 
ance ; she had a hook for a sceptre and a child’s cap 
for a crowm. The Count de Berleimont held her in 
leading-strings ; and on the other side, Flemish nobles 
who have preserved their allegiance, such as Aerschot, 
d’Aremberg, and others, offer her sweetmeats to pre- 
8 * 


90 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


vent her from crying whilst a Gueux scourges her. 
Godmaert showed me this engraving, and laughingly 
said, ‘ The lady is drawn to the life.’ ” 

“ Perjured villain ! ” exclaimed Godmaert ; do you 
not tremble whilst uttering such falsehoods in pres- 
ence of the bloody cross upon which God died for 
us ? Traitor, vomited forth from the depths of hell ! ” 
Prisoner,” interrupted Ortado, one of the judges, 
have you only that to offer in your defence ? ” 

“ What will you have me say, but that yonder 
wretch has lied most infamously ? ” 

‘‘We have received the deposition of the man 
whom you yourself sent to the government officers 
with the insulting engraving.” 

“ What is the man’s name ? ” 

“ Albert Merckhof.” 

“ Albert Merckhof? I do not know such an indi- 
vidual. Signor Valdes, I doubt not, is acquainted 
with him,” said Godmaert, casting a withering glance 
at his accuser. 

The judge resumed : 

“We have reason to believe that you are guilty 
of treason, since you freely confess that your senti- 
ments of hatred against the existing government are 
without bounds. Are you able to invalidate the 
testimony of Valdes and of Merckhof?” 

“ No ; all I can do, is to declare upon my honor 
that it is false.” 

“ You still persist in that declaration ? ” ' 

“ Yes.” 

“ And yet everything tends to prove your guilt. 
I command you, in the name of the law, to confess 
your crime and declare your accomplices.” 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


91 


“I will not reply to a calumny.’’ 

“For the last time, Godmaert, I advise you to 
acknowledge your guilt, or you will force us to have 
recourse to violence. Yes or no ; are you guilty of 
the crime with which you are charged ? ” 

“Yo.” 

The judge rang a hell, and two stalwart men 
entered the hall. 

“ To the torture ! ” said the judge. 

Godmaert trembled in every li*mb. The torture ! 
How frightfully the words rang in his ears. His 
terror, however, soon subsided. He reflected how 
often he had exposed his life on the field of battle ; 
he fortified himself by the thought that the suffering 
he was about to endure was a sacrifice for his country, 
and that he owed it to his honor to confound 
his enemy Valdes by his courageous endurance. 
Strengthened by this thought, he resolved to support 
the torture with intrepidity and without a complaint. 
"Whilst he was thus animating his courage, the exe- 
cutioners were preparing the instruments of torture. 
One of them mounted a ladder, and passed a rope 
through a pulley suspended to the ceiling. Beneath 
this they placed an apparatus composed of numerous 
pieces of heavy wood, in which were several smaller 
ropes. By means of a screw, these pieces of wood 
could be more and more widely separated from each 
other. 

“ It is ready,” said the executioners, as if they had 
just performed a simple and ordinary piece of work. 

The two men placed the Gueux standing upon the 
instrument of torture. The judges approached the 
prisoner and sat down. Their countenances indi- 


92 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


cated a cold insensibility, and it was evident that 
they were familiar with such scenes. 

Vald5s, in order the better to enjoy Godmaert’s 
sufferings, placed himself behind the judges. His 
eyes glistened with a cruel curiosity ; nothing could 
have been more pleasing to his ferocious heart, than 
the sight of the torments to be inflicted on his 
enemy. 

‘‘Accused,’’ demanded the president, “do you 
acknowledge your guilt ? ” 

“ I have committed no crime.” 

“ Commence your work.” 

At this order, the executioners fastened the ropes 
which descended from the arched ceiling to God- 
maert’s arms ; his feet were in like manner bound to 
the instrument. 

At a signal from the judge, the executioners pulled 
the ropes with great force. The pulley creaked, and 
the unfortunate Godmaert was slowly elevated until 
the rope confining his feet was stretched to its utmost 
extent. The Gueux was suspended in the air, his 
arms and legs extended as a crucifix ; not a’ groan 
escaped him. He regarded his judges steadily. 

“ Do you acknowledge your crime now ? ” de- 
manded the president. 

Godmaert made no reply. 

The judge made a sign with his hand to the exe- 
cutioners. A heavy blow from a hammer resounded 
through the hall, and Godmaert ’s limbs were more 
widely stretched. 

“ Do you confess ? ” immediately demianded the 
judge. 

The beams were, separated l)y another inch. 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


93 


‘‘ You obstinately refuse to reply to us ; therefore 
you are the cause of your now suffering.’^ 

Several blows from the hammer followed in quick 
succession ; the ropes had penetrated his flesh. 

You do not speak 

Another blow, and the joints of the prisoner 
snapped. 

“Stop ! cried the president. 

The Gueux fell senseless. The sight excited no 
compassion in the judges ; they knew it would end 
thus. Valdes experienced a savage joy. 

The body of Godmaert was borne to a chair by the 
executioners, who busied themselves in restoring him 
to consciousness. Long he lay inanimate, his limbs 
cold and rigid. 

“ Will you condemn him now ? ’’ asked Valdes, in 
a low voice. 

The president, to whom he addressed the question, 
regarded him distrustfully. 

“ Signor Valdes,’’ he said, “ we accomplish a sad 
duty. Do not disturb us ; we have not yet flnished 
with him.” 

This reply brought a frightful smile to Valdes’s 
face, and he cast a glance of triumphant hate upon the 
senseless Godmaert. 

“ Has he recovered consciousness ? ” said one of the 
judges. 

“ He begins to revive.” 

Godmaert at last opened his eyes, and his features 
were contracted by pain as he took the wine pre- 
sented him by the executioner. 

“ Why do you bring me back to life ? ” he asked. 
“Is my torture finished?” 


94 


LUDOVIC AND GEBTEUDE. 


“I think not/’ replied the executioner, in a 
whisper. ‘‘Commend your soul to God; for you 
will not leave this room alive.” 

“ I shall die a martyr to my country’s cause,” said 
the old man, feebly. 

He sought to move his limbs, paralyzed by the ten- 
sion, but he had no power to do so. 

“Godmaert,” said the president, “ will you confess 
your crime, in order to escape additional torture?” 

“ I confess ? ” replied Godmaert; “ no ; it is a con- 
solation to brave your cruelty. Accouding to your 
despotic laws, you may torture my body ; but my 
soul is strong, and shrinks not from the death you 
prepare for me.” 

“ You will confess nothing ? ” 

“ nothing.” 

“ Apply the reeds ! ” 

Godmaert offered not the least resistance, as they 
divested him of his clothing and fastened him by 
his neck to a pillar. His feet were so firmly clasped 
by iron rings, that, whatever might be his sufferings, 
it would be impossible for him to move. Then the 
executioners covered his naked body with an im- 
mense number of reeds split in the centre, which 
caught the flesh so tightly that the blood oozed 
through the skin. The pain must have been intense, 
for Godmaert’s muscles contracted convulsively. 
His face became purple, and his eyes started from 
their sockets. 

It was in this condition that Gertrude saw her 
father in the mirror. 

The judges silently contemplated this barbarous 
scene. Perhaps their hearts may have been touched 


LUDOVIC AND GEETRUDE. 


95 


with compassion for the unfortunate victim ; hut 
their exterior bespoke an entire insensibility. 

The cruel, perfidious Valdes inquired if this were 
the worst torture ; and when told by the execu- 
tioner that he knew of no greater sutfering, this 
soul, fit associate for the demons of hell, regretted 
that his vengeance was exhausted. 

“Do you confess?’’ demanded the president of 
Godmaert. 

He received no reply. The strength of the Gueux had 
yielded under the infliction. A' stified groan escaped 
from the agonizing old man and his head fell upon 
his breast. His arms hung lifeless in the iron rings. 

“ He is dead ! ” said the executioner, with evident 
pleasure, as he collected the instruments. Certainly, 
this man found no pleasure in his ofiice, when he 
rejoiced at the fatal termination. The judges 
appeared disturbed by the result of the torture ; they 
hastily signed a paper presented by the registrar, and 
withdrew. 

“ I am glad he is dead, the poor man,” exclaimed 
the executioner ; “ he has, at least, escaped the 
severest torture of all.” 

“ What torture ? ” asked Valdes. 

“ Had he not died,” replied the executioner, 
“melted pitch would have been poured into his 
wounds.” 

“Oh!” exclaimed Valdes, and he went away 
regretting that his victim had been spared this suf- 
fering. 

Godmaert was not dead ; by degrees he revived. 

The executioners, who had just before rejoiced at 
his death because it terminated his torture, now 


96 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


lavished upon him every care and attention. They 
bathed his wounds, and gave him wine before re- 
conducting him to prison. The gaoler, touched with 
pity by the condition of the old man, did not replace 
the manacles. 

The dungeon was locked, and the poor Gueux 
remained alone without consolation. He had no bed 
but the straw, the points of which entered his 
wounded flesh, and at last deprived him of conscious- 
ness. There is a degree of suffering which would 
always cause death, had not nature provided for man, 
by rendering him, under the excess of pain, insensible 
to it. 

Godmaert had reached this degree. He thought 
neither of heaven, nor of Gertrude, nor of himself; 
he slept. It seemed the sleep of death ; and yet it 
was not an eternal sleep. 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE DEATH OF VALDES. 

T he rays of the rising sun were breaking through 
the morning mist. The opening of doors and 
windows disturbed the silence which had reigned in 
Emperor Street. 

Teresa had arisen, and was standing by the side of 
Gertrude, who was still asleep. 

Poor child ! she whispered ; sleej) on : it will 
be a sad awakening for you.’’ 

She imprinted a kiss upon her brow with maternal 
tenderness. 


LUDOVTC AN]) G K 11 T 11 U jO E . 


97 


Tlie color had returned to Gertrude’s cheeks, and 
apparently no evil eftect had been caused by her 
visit to the sorceress. 

Suddenly, the sound of a horse’s tread was heard 
wdthout. 

“ He has come ! ” exclaimed Teresa, joyfully. She 
descended hastily, and opened the door for Ludovic, 
whose arrival she had so impatiently awaited. 

“ How is Gertrude ? ” he asked. 

“ She is well,” replied Teresa. 

“ Can I speak to Godmaert ? ” 

“ Godmaert is in prison.” 

In prison!” he exclaimed, turning pale. 

‘‘Yes, Messire, in prison.” 

“ Heavens 1 and Gertrude ? ” 

“ She is asleep.” 

“ Why was Godmaert arrested? ” 

“ Do you know Valdes, Messire Ludovic ? ” 

“Valdes 1 I have reason to know him.” 

He involuntarily laid his hand on the hilt of his 
sword, but removed it at once. 

“ Teresa,” he said, “ tell me quickly all that has 
happened.” 

She related briefly the occurrences of the previous 
night. 

“ The sorceress,” she added, “ said that your voice 
alone ivould have power to rouse Gertrude from her 
sleep.” 

Ludovic uttered only the one word, “Valdes!” 
fixing his eyes upon his dagger. 

. “ Come,” said Teresa ; “ you are obliged to go to 
my mistress.” 

She conducted him to Gertrude’s room. Under 

^ ( 


98 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


other circumstances, he would not for an instant 
have thought of entering her apartment ; as it was, 
the idea of the respect due her never crossed his 
mind. 

‘‘ Speak to her, Messire,” said Teresa, in order 
to awaken her.’’ 

Gertrude, my beloved ! ” he said, with emotion. 

The young girl was aroused by his voice. 

Ludovic, have you indeed returned ? You have 
been absent so long, so very long.” 

The young man was terrified by Gertrude’s calm- 
ness. He remembered Wolfangh’s recital; — grief 
had crazed Helen. He trembled in every limb. 

Your father, Gertrude ? ” he said. 

My father ? ” replied the young girl, with a wild 
expression, putting her hand to her head. Oh ! j^es, 
my father.” 

She was restored to the consciousness of her misery, 
and she burst into tears. 

‘‘ Go to the library and await me there,” she said 
to Ludovic. 

Ludovic, reassured as to the state of her mind, 
left the room as she desired, and she soon joined him 
in the library. 

‘‘Ludovic,” she said, weeping, “have you heard 
what has happened to my father ? ” 

“Yes, Gertrude, I know all. But dry your tears. 
I will not take a moment’s repose until I succeed in 
liberating Godmaert. I will go at once to Father 
Francis.” 

“Unfortunately, he has gone to the Abbey of 
Saint Bernard. His absence deprives us of our only 
resource. My poor father is immured in a dungeon. 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


99 


and the consolation he might derive from my pres- 
ence is denied him.’^ 

Father Francis at Saint Bernard ! ’’ said Lndovic, 
in despair. What shall we do ? He alone can aid 
us. Have our friends made any efforts to obtain 
Godmaert’s release ? ’’ 

“We have done what we could, but without suc- 
cess. And I expected your arrival with so much 
confidence ! I hoped that you, Ludovic, would gain 
me admittance to his prison. Another hope crushed. 
I must then leave him alone, abandoned, in his dun- 
geon 1 Perhaps, 0 my God ! he is already dead.’’ 

Her voice was hushed in one cry of anguish. 

Ludovic gazed upon her as though his mind were 
absorbed in thought, and the word, “ death ! deatli ! ” 
several times escaped him. 

“Perhaps tortured, — dying, — it may be dead!” 
gasped Gertrude. 

The young man gnashed his teeth with rage. At 
last he exclaimed : 

“A^ou shall see your father, Gertrude; I swear it 
on my honor ! A'ou shall see him before night, or 
never again will I come into your j)resence.” 

The young girl, pale and trembling, sprang towards 
Ludovic, regarded him with feverish anxiety, and, 
joining her hands, cried out : 

“ 0 Ludovic I what a terrible oath ! Spare my 
grief. Cannot you comprehend it ? I did not require 
such an oath. How I must lose either rny father or 
yon. 0 my God 1 how miserable I am ! Even 
Ludovic turns against me.” 

The young man seemed not to hear her words ; he 
stood as it were transfixed, and said, as though speak- 
ing to himself: 


100 


LUDOYIC AND GERTRUDE. 


Yes, I must, I will shed the blood of the wretch. 
He, who is the cause of so much grief, shall die a 
cruel death ! 

lie drew his sword, and contemplating the blade, 
he added : 

I had vowed to devote the sword of mj noble 
father to my country’s cause ; and it will be defiled 
by the blood of a villain ! ” 

Whilst Ludovic pronounced these words, Gertrude, 
thrown back in her chair, was so pale and inanimate, 
that, were it not for the tears which flowed down 
her cheeks, one would have supposed her to be dead. 
Ludovic’s eye at last fell uj)on the unfortunate young 
girl. He approached her and took her hand. Her 
respiration became diflicult, and her bosom heaved. 
What an agony of sufl‘ering to Ludovic! Agitated 
by contending emotions, by a religious sense of 
right, by love, devotion to his country, and the 
thirst of vengeance, he knew not what to do. 

‘‘ Gertrude 1 dear Gertrude ! ” he exclaimed. 

“ Leave me ; let me die alone ! Ludovic. My 
father in a dungeon 1 you, an assassin 1 0 my God ! 

would that I could die 1 ” 

At this moment the noise of wheels was heard 
before the door. The two regarded each other in- 
quiringly. Could Godmaert have returned? This 
question was asked plainly by their brightening 
eyes. Gertrude sprang up quickl}^, and her tears 
ceased to flow. The door opened, and at the sight 
of Father Francis they both uttered a cry of joy. 

It AYas a touching scene. The AAdiite-haired priest 
stood in the middle of the room ; the tAVO unfor- 
tunate young people had each tliroAAui an arm around 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


101 


liis neck, as shipwrecked mariners cling to a spar as 
a means of preserving life ; Gertrude’s head rested 
upon the breast of the old man, and her tears of joy 
fell abundantly. hTot a word breaks the solemn 
silence. The priest lifts his eyes to heaven ; he 
places a hand on the heads of Ludovic and Ger- 
trude ; he prays — he invokes the all-powerful help 
of God. How beautiful in his invocation is the 
venerable old man ! 

Having finished his prayer, he said : 

My dear children, I know the terrible misfortune 
which has overwhelmed you — ” 

Oh, Father ! ” exclaimed Gertrude, how bitterly 
we have deplored your absence ! But, now that you 
are with us, hope revives in my heart. God Him- 
self has sent you to us ! ” 

I learned at Saint Bernard of your father’s 
arrest. I could not leave you alone under so painful 
a circumstance. I immediately obtained the Abbe’s 
carriage, and went to see the chief judge. But you 
must still exercise your patience. The judge is at 
Brussels, and he will not return before evening. 
But in. the meantime he consoled, for I shall visit 
Godmaert before that hour.” 

‘‘ Oh, Father,” cried Gertrude, clasping her hands, 
‘‘ let me accompany you ! ” 

That is impossible, my child ; you know that the 
order was given to admit no one. As Godmaert’s 
confessor, I am not included in the prohibition. I 
am exhausted, my child, by my journey, and I am 
still fasting. Give me breakfast, and in an hour’s 
time I will be with your father, and I will remain 
until night.” 

9 ^^ 


102 


LTJDOVIC AND GEETDUDE. 


Oh ! how good you are ! ’’ exclaimed Gertrude. 

Your words of consolation will be as halm to his 
sutfering heart.’’ 

Teresa was summoned by Gertrude, and received 
her mistress’ order to prepare a good breakfast for 
the venerable priest. The hope that Father Francis 
miccht be successful in his efforts in behalf of God- 
maert rendered Gertrude calmer, and they conversed 
together on the situation of affairs. Ludovic al- 
luded to his intention of revenging himself by the 
death of Valdes. 

My son,” said the priest, with severity, your 
heart is full of worldly passions. Beware ! for by 
such passions as these the evil spirit seeks to destroy 
your soul. To gratify a personal vengeance, you an- 
nihilate a creature of God, your neighbor, whom the 
sublime precept of the gospel commands you to love 
as yourself. You shed the blood of a sinner ; you 
cast, in his sin, into the eternal abyss, him who 
might, perchance, become reconciled to God ; for no 
crime is too great to find mercy.” The priest took 
Ludovie’s hand. “ Have faith, my son, and repent 
for the guilty desires which your passion has excited ; 
and thank God that you were spared the actual com- 
mission of a murder.” 

Teresa entered at this moment to say that break- 
fast was served in the dining-room. As the priest 
was about to leave the room, Gertrude detained him, 
saying : 

“ Father Francis, Messire Ludovic promised me to 
make every effort to procure me admission to my 
father to-day. Do you think it advisable for him to 
carry out his intentions ? ” 

The priest reflected a moment, and replied : 


LXJDOVIC AND GEETEUDE. 


103 


“ I liave not the least hope that he will succeed ; 
nevertheless, there may be some chance.’’ 

He turned to Ludovic, and said : 

Go, my son ; it will mitigate your sorrow to 
know that you have left nothing undone. But he 
prudent ; do not yield to hatred or the desire of 
revenge.” 

Ludovic bade adieu and left at once. The priest 
and Gertrude went to the dining-room. 

Ludovic, after parting with Gertrude, repaired at 
once to the prison, and tried every means to obtain 
admittance to Godmaert ; but the gaoler was immov- 
able. The young man entreated, threatened, offered 
enormous bribes ; all was in vain. As the gaoler, 
however, was reasonable and obliging where his duty 
was not concerned, he answered all Ludovic’s ques- 
tions, and informed him that Godmaert had been put 
to torture. The young man left the prison in despair, 
and visited the Gueux whom he had met two days 
before at the house of the old Mother Schrikkel. 
All, like himself, were deeply moved by what had 
taken place ; all had made the useless attempt to see 
Godmaert. Excited as they were, the only plan they 
could devise for the deliverance of their chief was 
to hasten the insurrection. For this purpose, they 
employed every means to excite the people to revolt. 
At every corner were collected groups of men in a 
feverish state of excitement. Throughout the city 
resounded the cry, ‘‘Long live the Gueux!” and 
when a detachment of soldiers appeared, the crowd 
dispersed into the by-streets, renewing the cry of 
“ Long live the Gueux 1 ” with increased energy. 

Ludovic, a prey to intense anxiety, traversed the 


104 


LUDOVIC AND GEDTllUDE. 


excited crowd, and reached the residence of Van 
Halon. I^ear the bridge, he met a man enveloped 
in a large cloak, who accosted him. 

Ludovic,’’ he said ; ‘‘ what is the news ? ” 

Schuermans ! ” exclaimed Ludovic, “ is it yon ? 
You seem desirous to preserve an incognito.” 

That is true, Messire. Do not mention my name. 
Have you seen Godmaert ? ” 

“'No I cannot gain admittance. Do you know 
of the torture inflicted upon him ? ” 

4^ Yes, I know it. The wretches ! the blood-thirsty 
villains ! They imagine that the Gueux dare not 
avenge themselves ! ” 

They nearly deprived him of life ! ” 

“ Do you know, Messire, who was the cause of it ? ” 
‘^Yes; Valdes.” 

As soon as I heard it, I went to work, and now 
all is over. Valdes is dead.” 

Dead ? ” 

Look, Ludovic ; here is his life-blood ! ” 

And opening his cloak, he showed him his blood- 
stained sword. 

Now you understand why I endeavor to pass 
unrecomized throua-h the streets.” 

o o 

Schuermans continued : 

“llis corpse still lies at the Guldenherg^ and the 
murder will soon be discovered. I do not think 
there were any Avitnesses of the deed ; but, for the sake 
of security, I must rid myself of this bloody evidence. 
To-morrow ! Ludovic, to-morrow will come the ter- 
rible vengeance. Look ! ” and he pointed to the 
surging multitude. 

‘‘ To-morrow" ! ” said Ludovic, sadly. ‘‘To-morrow ! 
0 my God ! ” 


LUDOVIC AXD GERTEUDE. 


105 


He thought with horror of the scenes about to be 
enacted. 

Where are you going ? ” asked Schuermans. 

“ I was on my way to see Van Halen, hoping, by 
his influence, to obtain permission to visit Godmaert 
in his prison.’’ 

You will not be admitted to Godmaert, Ludovic. 
Van Halen failed in his application to the Prince of 
Orange for the same favor.” 

But suppose, Schuermans, I apply in person to 
the Prince?” 

‘‘You would be too late; he has just left for 
Brussels.” ^ 

“ What method then can I adopt ? ” 

• “ I know of none. Be prepared to drive the Span- 
iards from the city, and do not forget that we meet 
to-night at the house of Mother Schrikkel. We will 
there discuss the arrest of Godmaert. You will be 
there ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Adieu until this evening ! ” 

Schuermans directed his steps towards his residence 
in the Klapdorp^ and Ludovic returned to the palace 
of Godmaert. 

As sopn as he entered the library, Gertrude’s face 
brightened into a smile, and she said : 

“ Shall I send for my wrappings, Ludovic? ” 

“ Ho, Gertrude ; I have been unsuccessful.” 

A heavy sigh escaped, her. 

“ Do not despair, Gertrude. Father Francis prom- 
ised to see the chief judge; and he will more readily 
receive a permit for your admittance, now that Val- 
des is dead.” 


106 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


“ Dead?.’’ asked Gertrude, regarding him fixedly. 

“Yes, Gertrude; hut your Ludovic is not a mur- 
derer. Schuermans assassinated him before I met 
him.” 

“Valdes dead! Perhaps ^my father will be lib- 
erated ! ” 

Then, as if reproaching herself for the joy she had 
testified at the death of their enemy, she added, more 
calmly : 

“Father Francis went to the prison. I have no 
doubt he is now with my father. I will await his 
return patiently ; for he will console the poor pris- 
oner ; and if there b^ any means of salvation for him. 
Father Francis has more power than we to avail him- 
self of them.” 

“You are right, Gertrude; our only hope is in 
God’s mercy.” 

After a moment’s silence, the young girl resumed : 

“ But, Ludovic, what is going on in the city ? I 
stood at the window awhile ago, and numerous 
groups of armed men passed, all repeating the cry, 
^ Long live the Gueux 1 ’ Has any contest taken 
place ? ” 

“ Yo, Gertrude, not yet ; but to-morrow will Avit- 
ness horrible profanations. You know not Avhat 
frightful news I have heard.” 

“ What ncAvs, Ludovic ? ” 

“ Horrible, Gertrude, horrible. Herman Stujek, 
the heresiarch of the Iconoclasts, is to preach to- 
morroAV in the church of Our Lady. Yesterday, 
after a sermon in which he scandalously outraged 
God and His saints, he gave notice that to-morrow, 
at nine o’clock, he Avould preach in the Cathedral. 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


107 


The temple of the Lord will resound with his blas- 
phemies ; these accursed foreigners will sing their 
impious and revolting songs before the altar upon 
which reposes the body of Jesus Christ. They hurl 
their blasphemies in like manner against the immac- 
ulate Mother of our Lord. They apply to her 
epithets suggested by the spirit of darkness. I 
would seem to myself defiled even to repeat their 
blasphemous words.’’ 

Do not the miserable creatures fear the wrath of 
heaven ? ” asked Gertrude, indignantly. 

Their hearts are hardened. They abuse the 
mercy of the God whom they insult. I know not 
what crimes to-morrow’s sun will shine upon ; but I 
am fearful that horrid scenes will meet our eyes.” 

“ What can you fear worse than the profanation 
of our churches ? ” 

The mob will destroy the emblems of our faith ; 
they will break to pieces and burn the works of art 
which adorn our temples ; the images of the saints 
will be thrown down ; the paintings torn to shreds ; 
and we will look in vain, after their devastating 
hands will have done their work, for a remembrance 
of our religion.” 

Gertrude arose and walked to the window with 
Ludovic. 

Look,” she said, pointing to the wall of the op- 
posite building ; your fears are not groundless. 
During your absence, a band of wicked men passed 
by. They talked insultingly of the Blessed Virgin, 
and threw bricks against her statue ; notice that one 
of the hands is broken. Ludovic, we placed that 
statue in the niche ; and they shall not injure it 
again. I will remove it.” 


108 


LUDOVIC AND GEDTEUDE. 


“You must not touch it until night ; to take it 
away at this time would be the signal for a general 
profanation/’ 

“ Oh, Ludovic ! suppose they should destroy it. 
From my earliest childhood I have loved it. 'When 
my mother first taught me to lisp the name of God, 
and to pray to Him, I knelt before that shrine. I 
was born under its shadow, and it would be a great 
sorrow to me not to behold it in my old age.” 

“ It shall not be broken, Gertrude ; it shall be in 
your room to-morrow.” 

They thus conversed together for some time. 
Gertrude seemed to derive comfort from Ludovic’s 
presence, and they awaited hopefully the return of 
Father Francis. 

During this time an impressive scene had passed 
in one of the deepest dungeons of the prison. This 
dungeon was very small, and had received the name 
of the murderer’s grave. It was dug very deep 
under ground, and, having no outlet to the exterior 
of the building, it was cold and damp. Many a 
criminal, after having been subjected to torture, had 
died there. 

In one corner of this dismal dungeon burned a 
small lamp, placed upon the stone fioor; its dim 
light did not illumine the cell, but rendered per- 
ceptible a faint outline of its contents — two pillars, 
to which were fastened an iron collar and iron 
chains. 

On a heap of straw in this dungeon lay Godmaert ; 
his body was wrapped in bloody cloths ; his head 
rested on a hard pillow, furnished him by the com- 
passionate gaoler. Beside him could bo distin- 


LUDOVIC.AND GERTEUDE. 109 

guislied a luiman form, kneeling. By his religions 
habit and his gray hairs, one might easily recognize 
Father Francis. 

The priest had been silent some time, evidently 
awaiting a reply from Godmaert. At last he said, 
sadly : 

Godmaert, my brother, I repeat to you, that in 
all probability you will die. You are, perhaps, 
about to appear before the judgment-seat of Almighty 
God. Oh ! in this terrible moment, listen to my 
words. Will you leave the world without repent- 
ance, without forgiving your enemies ? ’’ 

Godmaert painfully turned his head towards the 
priest, and replied, slowly and distinctly : 

Yo, no. Father ; I shall not die. I shall live to 
avenge my country and myself. More than ever I 
detest and curse their name. Their blood shall flow 
as mine has flowed — ’’ 

Fever unsettles your mind, my friend. On whom 
do you wish to be avenged ? ’’ 

“ On whom ? exclaimed Godmaert, as one en- 
raged. On whom ? On our oppressors, who have 
converted our fair country into a slaughter-house ; 
on those who, by torture, put to death innocent 
men like myself ; on those villanous Spaniards, who 
think they may, with impunity, trample under foot 
the flower of the Flemish nobility.’’ 

“ My son, my dear son, you have permitted your 
judgment to be warped by the enemies of religion 
and by your own pride. Try to be calm, and you 
,will acknowledge your mistake.” 

“ I know. Father, that your duty requires you to 
exhort me to the forgiveness of injuries ; therefore, 
10 


no 


I.UDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


I am grateful for your solicitude in my regard ; l3ut 
nothing can eftect a change in my sentiments. I am 
thoroughly convinced that my country is oppressed; 
that the government is slowly riveting our chains 
closer and closer ; and were I again to be subjected 
to torture, were I to die in the midst of torments, 
with my last breath I would curse the execrable 
Spaniards ! 

The priest, discouraged, dropped the hand of God- 
maert, and lifting his eyes to heaven, exclaimed: 

Would you curse youv neighbor ? Your innocent 
neighbor V’ 

“ Innocent ! ’’ repeated Godmaert. Is Valdes in- 
nocent ? ” 

“ Yo, Godmaert; he sinned before God. But are 
there not some among our own countrymen whose 
passions drive them to the commission of atrocious 
crimes ? Yv^ ould ^mu curse all for the sin of one ? 
My friend, I did not think you were so hard- 
hearted.” 

Godmaert, although admitting the force of the 
argument of the priest, did not choose to yield the 
point, and did not reply to it directly ; but he ex- 
claimed, with enthusiasm : 

On this bloody bed, at the close of my life^ I 
remain faithful to the motto of my ancestors. They 
always combated foreign rulers, and their cry then 
was what mine is to-day : ‘All for our country ! ’ ” 

“You have forgotten, Godmaert, the motto of 
your ancestors. It was : ‘ All for God and my 
country!’” 

“It is true. Father, that Avas their motto, and — 
it is — also — ” 


LUDOYIC AND GERTRUDE. 


Ill 


Tlie voice of Godmaert suddenly expired on liis 
lips ; lie pressed liis hand to his heart, and his breast 
heaved with agony. 

“0 my God! what suffering 1” he gasped. 
‘‘Father — Francis — it has passed — lam better.’’ 

“ For the love of God,” cried the priest, in a suppli- 
cating tone, “ I conjure you to renounce your hatred 
and abandon your desire of revenge.” 

“My hour has not yet come. Father. Spare me, 
in my sufferings, the pain of opposing you. The 
hatred I bear the enemies of my'- country is immor- 
tal and implacable.” 

“ Thus, Godmaert, my words have no power over 
your soul ? Will you listen to me whilst I refer to 
facts ? Let -us examine together how groundless is 
your hate. Be just and severe in judging your own 
cause. Bo you remember the sad and solemn day 
when the Emperor, Charles the Fifth, your bene- 
factor and the glory of his country, abdicated the 
crown ? It was at Brussels ; you were there, and 
you heard the words which fell from his august lips : 
‘ My subjects of the Low Countries, may peace reign 
among you 1 Bemain united, and be obedient to the 
laws. Particularly, if you desire to be happy, admit 
no heresies into your country ; and should the bad 
seed commence to take root, cast it out ; for it would 
cause the destruction of your country.’ You, with 
others, heard these words and ratified them. Alas 1 
hoiv soon has this salutary advice been forgotten ! 
Scarcely had the emperor gone, when, instigated by 
ambitious desires, you banded together ; you pre- 
sented demands to the government which favored 
heresy ; and on the refusal of these demands, you 


112 


LUDOVIC AND GERTDUDE. 


cried out that the country was oppressed ; you com- 
bated, as despotic acts, every measure adopted to 
prevent the propagation of the new doctrine. You 
have excited the people to revolt figainst their sov- 
ereign ; knowing it to be false, you authorized the 
belief that the inquisition was to be established in 
the Low Countries. You have given the name of 
Spanish inquisition to the torture which, from time 
immemorial and under every form of government, 
has been employed in the Low Countries : you have 
deceived your countrymen. You have made them 
believe that a death-blow was aimed at their liber- 
ties, because the petition for new and dangerous 
liberties was rejected. You have leagued yourself 
with the ambitious nobles, and you have demanded 
a liberty subversive of religion in the Low Countries. 
By this, you have invited into your country the 
unbelievers of France and Germany. They have 
answered your call ; they are here. They have 
shaken the foundations of the ancient faith of Bel- 
gium ; they have mined the columns of the true 
Church ; and you, Godmaert, you and your associates, 
presented them the instruments with which to do the 
work. And you call this loving and liberating your 
country 1 Bo you then esteem the religion of your 
fathers a tyranny? Bo you derive glory from 
attacking the defenders of the Church? Are you 
so guilty and impious that knowingly you would 
give aid to the enemies of your faith ? Oh ! tell me 
that you repent ; ask pardon of God, whom you have 
irritated. Speak, my friend ; let me hear from the 
brother whom I love the acknowledgment of his 
error!’’ 


LUDOVIC AKD GERTRUDE. 


113 


The priest ceased speaking ; but in an instant he 
uttered a cry of anguish as he bent in agony over the 
body of his friend. Godmaert lay without motion 
and apparently dead upon the straw ; his hands 
joined rested 6n his breast. 

Trembling and terrified, the priest seated himself 
by Godmaert’s side, passed his hand under his head, 
and lifted it so that the rays from the lamp might 
fall upon the face. 

“Dead! dead!’’ he exclaimed, in bitter grief, 
bedewing with his tears the pale cheeks of Godmaert. 
“ Dead ! my best friend, my brother, and I could not 
save him ! Merciful Jesus, have pity on his soul ! ” 

He gently laid the head of the Gueux upon the 
pillow, and with uplifted hands addressed to God a 
long and fervent prayer. Suddenly his prayer was 
interrupted by what seemed to be a low moan from 
Godmaert. The priest trembled with anxiety, bent 
eagerly over his friend and fixed his eyes upon his 
face, holding his breath to catch the least sound ; but 
no movement encouraged him to hope. 

Whilst he was thus watching Godmaert, suddenly 
his hands unclasped, his eyes opened and met those 
of Father Francis bending over him. He slowly 
raised one arm, passed it around the neck of the 
priest, drew his head towards him, and touched his 
cheek with his icy lips. The heart of Father Francis 
was filled with an intense joy ; he imagined that 
Godmaert, still unable to speak, wished in' this man- 
ner to express his repentance. 

A few moments afterwards, Godmaert revived. 
His first words were: 

“ My good Father! ” 

10 * 


II 


114 


LUDOVIC AND GEIITRUDE. 


Poor Godmaert,” said the priest, weeping ; ‘‘ did 
you understand wliat I said ? Did my voice reach 
your heart ? ’’ 

I heard all, Father. I have done wrong, and I 
demand pardon of God.’’ 

Saved ! saved ! ” cried the priest, embracing God- 
maert. Now, my beloved brother, should God call 
you, you may die in peace. Your life, apart from 
this one fault, was pure. Your soul may now con- 
fidently appear before its judge, and we may hope, 
my friend, to meet one day in the bosom of God. I 
shall soon follow you, for my life is fast ebbing. 
Delivered from terrestrial sufterings, we shall con- 
tinue to love each other in heaven, and we shall be 
happily reunited for all eternity.” 

Whilst thus talking. Father Francis remarked 
with pleasure that Godmaert was more and more 
recovering from the fiiint into which he had fallen. 
They spoke of Gertrude and Ludovic, and Godmaert 
received with submission the exhortations of his 
friend. 

After remaining several hours, the priest arose 
and knocked several times upon the door of the dun- 
geon, which was immediately opened by the gaoler. 

“ What o’clock is it ? ” asked Father Francis. 

Nearly nine in the evening,” replied the gaoler. 

Could you not send some one to the prisoner ? 
He is very ill, and I am forced to leave him.” 

Yes, Father; I will call my servant.” 

The gaoler left, closing the door after him. 

Have courage,” said the priest to Godmaert. 
am now going to see the chief judge, who must 
have returned by this time from Brussels. I will 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


115 


endeavor to obtain some amelioration in your con- 
dition, and in an hour I will return with your chil- 
dren. The judge will, I am sure, grant me at least 
this favor.’’ 

Godmaert pressed the hand of the priest with grat- 
itude. 

‘‘ Go, and may the God whom you serve so faith- 
fully bless and protect you ! ” 

The .gaoler returned with his aid, and the priest 
left the prison and went to the chief judge. 

He was well received by this magistrate, but all 
he could obtain was permission for Gertrude and Lu- 
dovic to be admitted to Godmaert’s dungeon. He 
hastily repaired to Emperor Street, in order to give 
the pleasing intelligence to his afflicted children. 

Long had they been looking for him with anxious 
hearts. hTo sooner did they perceive him, than Ger- 
trude exclaimed : 

What news do you bring us. Father ? ” 

She trembled as she asked the question, although 
Father Francis’s tranquil expression was a good omen 
to her. 

My children, God, in His inscrutable designs, 
has permitted your father to endure horrible suffer- 
ings ; but we have reason to hope that he will re- 
cover.” 

Tears flowed from Gertrude’s eyes. 

Oh ! ” cried she, in anguish, ‘‘ you conceal some- 
thing from me: you have still greater misery in 
store for me ! ” 

Be calm, my child, and do not uselessly torture 
yourself. Your father lives, and you may go to see 
him. I came to conduct you to his prison.” 


116 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


Eadirait witli joj, Gertrude cauglrt up her cloak, 
and threw it around her shoulders, exclaiming : 

“ Come quickly ; I am ready ! 

My children,’’ said the priest, ‘‘you must allow 
me a few moments’ rejoose. My feeble body re- 
minds me of my age. My exhausted strength re- 
quires some refreshment.” 

Gertrude cast aside her cloak, alarmed by the pal- 
lor of the priest’s countenance. 

“ Pardon me, my good Father,” she ’said ; “ I see 
that you are fatigued, worn out. Take the repose 
you need ; I will restrain my impatience.” 

She left the room hastily, and soon returned with 
Teresa, bringing refreshments. 

Whilst Father Francis partook of the food so 
necessary to him, Gertrude prepared to visit her 
fixther, and aw^aited in silence until the priest, arising, 
said : 

“ Come now, my children, and try to be cheerful. 
Do not add to your father’s sufferings by the sight 
of your sorrow.” 

They quitted their own residence, and traversing 
in silence the dark streets of the city, they reached 
the prison. As they arrived, the moon emerged 
from the clouds which had obscured it, and poured 
its rays upon the sombre building. At the sight of 
the high walls and iron bars, Gertrude’s heart almost 
ceased its beatings, and she could scarcely take a 
step. 

The priest knocked ; the door was opened, grating 
harshly on its hinges. 

What terror was experienced by Gertrude as she 
traversed the cold and dark passages ! At intervals. 


LUDOVIC AND aERTRUDE. 


117 


slie heard the clanking of chains, or the groans of 
the prisoners, and each time she imagined it was her 
father’s voice. 

At last the gaoler stopped before a massive door 
covered with iron plates, and thrice turned the key 
in the lock. 

Father, father ! ” exclaimed Gertrude, as at last 
she was admitted ; here is your child, your Ger- 
trude ! ” 

A deep groan was the sole reply. 

The dim light of the lamp only permitted her 
to perceive indistinctly a human form. Father 
Francis was still at the door, when Gertrude had al- 
ready thrown herself on her knees beside her father. 

‘‘Father, dearest father,” she cried, weeping, 
“ what have they done to you that you cannot em- 
brace me ? ” 

“ My beloved daughter ! ” he said, in a feeble 
voice. 

He strove to raise his arms, but they fell power- 
less upon the straw. Gertrude’s tears watered his 
cheeks. She could not speak ; sobs choked her 
utterance. She passed her hand caressingly over 
his brow. 

“ 0 Ludovic ! look,” she said, pointing to the 
blood-stained linen; “ see how cruelly they have tor- 
tured him.” 

“ Are you here, too, Ludovic ? You see they have 
not spared my gray hairs. My son, raise me a little,” 
said Godmaert. 

The young girl sprang up, and, carefully passing 
her arm under her father’s shoulders, she lifted him 
to a sitting posture. 


118 


LUDOVIG AND GERTRUDE. 


Come to me, my beloved daughter ; let me em- 
brace you, perhaps for the last time. It may be that 
God is about to call me to Himself.’’ 

Say not so, my cherished father,” exclaimed 
Gertrude, d'espairingly. By my loving care I will 
restore life to your paralyzed limbs, and God will 
spare you to me for many years to come. Oh ! do 
not die. I could not survive you. Take courage 
and live; for I shall die without you.” 

Ludovic stepped aside ; he could not endure the 
painful scene, and he could find no words to console 
the desolate young girl. 

The priest was kneeling in one corner of the dun- 
geon, praying with clasped hands. 

Where are you, Ludovic ? ” asked Godmaert. 
“My days are numbered, my son, and I shall soon 
descend into the grave, for my respiration is labored 
and my limbs are swollen. Gertrude, be resigned to 
the will of God. When God calls us, my child, v/e 
cannot escape death. 0 Ludovic 1 they tortured me 
cruelly; the blood fiowed from every pore of my 
body.” 

“ Valdes is dead, father,” said Gertrude, “ and you 
still live, and you will not die. I will not leave you, 
and my love will ward ofi* the chill of death. You 
die? You, my father? Ho, no, you shall not die. 
Ludovic, shall he die ? Speak. Oh ! what a cruel 
v/ord is death ! And you do not answer, cruel Lu- 
dovic. Tell me, ean my father die ? ” 

“Ho, no,” said Ludovic, overpowered by the sight 
of her grief. 

“Do you hear, father?” cried Gertrude; “Liidovic 
says you cannot die.” 


LUDOVIC AND GEDTRUDE. 


119 


Perhaps my fears may not he realized,” said 
Godmaert. 

Gertrude regarded him fixedly. 

“Perhaps,” resumed the old man, “I may again 
be at home with you ; hut as thpvt is extremely 
doubtful, I wish, Ludovic, before I die, to commit my 
daughter to your care. Approach, that I may bless 
you.” 

Ludovic knelt by Gertrude. Father Francis ele- 
vated his heart in still more fervent prayer, begging 
God to take pity on Godmaert and his children. 
The dim rays of the lamp fell on the pallid cheeks 
of the old man and the faces of his children bedewed 
with tears. Kneeling before Godmaert, they awaited 
his benediction; he, laying his hand upon their 
heads, implored the blessing of heaven upon them. 

“ Ludovic,” he said, “ I give you my Gertrude in 
recompense of your love for her, and your generous 
devotion to your country. Gertrude, love your hus- 
band. I pray God to grant his benediction to both 
of you. Ludovic, I have that to say to you which 
will fill your heart with joy. I forced you to join 
the Gueux ; I made you become the associate of men 
whose sentiments were opposed to yours. You 
obeyed me, although your whole soul revolted 
against the work to which I obliged you to pledge 
yourself. But on the brink of the grave, the scales 
have fallen from my eyes. I thought we were com- 
bating in our country’s cause ; and, alas ! we were 
protecting and aiding the enemies of the Church. 
From this moment, Ludovic, I revoke the orders I 
gave you in regard to the insurrection. Perhaps 
there is still time to save the faith which we have 


120 


LUDOVIC AND GERTKUDE. 


endangered. In future, follow the dictates of your 
noble and loyal soul ! ’’ 

The young man expressed his gratification, but 
added : 

Godmaert, how shall we prevent the consequences 
of our own plans? Our associates intend to com- 
mence the revolt to-morrow ; for this purpose, they 
meet at midnight.’^ 

To-morrow! That must not he! Herman Stujek 
is to preach to-morrow in the Cathedral. The insur- 
rection might aid his cause. Fail not, my son, to 
attend the meeting. Make them comprehend that 
the revolt must be delayed ; that to do otherwise is 
to endanger religion. I know that your heart will 
inspire you on this occasion. Rise, my children ; 
your presence has greatly comforted me. Your lov- 
ing embrace, my dear Gertrude, has infused warmth 
into my frozen limbs.’’ 

‘‘You will recover, dear father, I know you will. 
Once at home, you will be quickly restored to health. 
Here you are benumbed by cold ; you lie on the bare 
ground. Your daughter is not near to watch over 
you, to nurse you ; you miss her love and care, my 
poor father ! ” 

And she pressed him to her heart as if to warm 
him there. 

“ Gaoler,” said Ludovic, “I will give you one hun- 
dred crowns, if you will let me take this prisoner 
hence.” 

“Yo, Messire ; I cannot consent.” 

“Five hundred — a thousand.” 

“I cannot, and I will not. Would you have me 
sell my life for gold ? ” 


LUDOYIC AND GERTRUDE. 


121 


I will secure to you by deed my lands of Ber- 
chem. Ask more than that : take all I have, provided 
you will release Godmaert.” 

IsTo, M^ssire ; however tempting your offers may 
be, they would be no equivalent for my life. I am 
not wdlling to run the risk.’’ 

Oh ! ” said Gertrude, be merciful. Vfill you 
never perform a good action ? Why will you not set 
my father free ? Has he not suffered enough already ? 
I will give you my mother’s jewels. What harm 
has my father done you ? You have no cause of 
complaint against him. Let him go, I implore you. 
Then he can be nursed as his condition requires, and 
he will be restored to health.” 

My noble lady, I must discharge my duty. I 
have permitted you to remain some time with your 
father for his consolation. It is all I can do, and 
you must be satisfied with that. It is near mid- 
night: I can grant you only a few minutes more.” 

Gertrude turned to her father and lavished upon 
him every testimony of affection, until the clock 
struck twelve. Ludovic in the meanwhile was 
talking with Father Francis. 

Gertrude,” he said, joyfully, “ Father Francis 
wfill remain with your father.’.’ 

The young girl caught the hand of the priest and 
kissed it gratefully. 

‘‘Be calm, my child,” said the religious, “and 
return home. Put your trust in Him who can give 
joy and consolation to the afflicted. Lift your soul 
in prayer to God, and weep no more.” 

Gertrude, in spite of her earnest supplications, was 
forced to leave the dungeop. Embracing her father 
11 " ' * 


122 


LUDOYIC AND GEETRUDE. 


again and again, slie at last' bade him adieu, and left 
with Ludovic. 

As soon as the young man had conducted her to 
her dwelling, and committed her to the care of 
Teresa, he went at once to the meeting of the Gueux. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE RESCUE OE GODMAERT. 

I T was an hour after midnight. Most of the streets 
of Antwerp were buried in profound darkness, 
the lamps having consumed their oil ; but the silence 
and quiet usual to the city at that hour were broken 
by a confused noise, as if the roaring of the tempest- 
tossed waves of a distant sea were borne on the 
winds, and filled the air with mournful and porten- 
tous sounds. Amid the indistinct murmur could be 
distinguished the barking of dogs, the monotonous 
cry of the watchmen, the ringing step of the guards, 
and the more stealthy tread of men who mysteri- 
ously traversed the streets : such were the signs pre- 
ceding the outbreak of the revolution. 

The Gueux, who had assembled at the house of 
Mother Schrikkel, were in such numbers that the 
hall could scarcely contain them. They seemed 
under great excitement ; oaths and imprecations were 
heard on all sides. 

The table, covered as usual with daggers, pitchers, 
and glasses, stood in the centre of the hall ; but as 
the company was too numerous to be seated around 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 123 

it, the chairs had been removed to another apartment. 
The Guenx were standing about in groups. They 
had not laid aside their cloaks, so that the poniards 
which they carried suspended from their necks were 
not visible. 

They continued' their excited conversation until 
interrupted by the entrance of another conspirator, 
v/hom they questioned eagerly, several voices ex- 
claiming : 

“ What have jou heard, Iloutappel ? What has 
happened to Godmaert ? ’’ 

“ You would not believe me,’’ replied Iloutappel, 
indignantly ; you would not believe me were I to 
tell you the whole truth. The very executioner 
seemed to be shocked when relating the horrible his- 
tory. I shudder even now at the thought — ” 

Speak,” said Schuermans, ‘‘ and tell us what you 
know.” 

They lacerated Godmaert’s body as if they had 
been wild beasts ; they made him endure the most 
frightful torments. And why ? Because Godmaert, 
like ourselves, is an ardent lover of his country.” 

The Gueux listened v/ith horror, grinding their 
teeth and clinching their fists. 

‘‘Yes, my friends,” continued Iloutappel, “thus 
they treated our venerable chief; after torturing 
him in this manner, they threw him like a dog upon 
a handful of stravv^. Shall this outrage be left un- 
punished ? ” 

“Vengeance! vengeance!” reverberated through 
the hall. The assembly became tumultuous ; dag- 
gers glittered as they were waved in the air ; swords 
were drawn from their scabbards. Horror, indigna- 


124 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


tion, and a thirst for revenge, had made all present 
involuntarily seize their arms. 

‘‘Spanish dogs!’’ exclaimed the furious Schuer- 
mans. He fell upon his knees, raised to heaven his 
right hand, holding a drawn dagger, and cried out : 

I swear by the God of my fathers, by the God 
who hears my vow, that this blade shall drink the 
blood of the Spaniards ; that I devote my life to my 
country and to vengeance ; and that I will descend 
into the tomb covered with the blood of my ene- 
mies ! ” 

The enthusiasm excited among the Gueux by 
these words was intense. Maledictions and cries of 
rage resounded on all sides. But the tumult sud- 
denly subsided, as the Gueux, upon the opening of 
the door, saw Ludovic de Halmale enter. 

The young man saluted the assembly, and ap- 
proached the table, intending to address them ; but 
before he had time to say a word, Houtappel asked : 

Have you seen Godmaert, Ludovic ? Is not his 
body covered with wounds ? ” 

‘‘Yes,” replied Ludovic ; “he was frightfully tor- 
tured. But, gentlemen, what is your intention? 
Do you still design to commence the revolution to- 
morrow ? ” 

“ Yes, yes,” they all exclaimed at once. 

Houtappel stepped forward, and said, excitedly : 

“ To-morrow, not a single Spaniard, not a single 
partisan of the foreigner, shall be left alive. Their 
blood shall flow in expiation of the outrages off*ered 
our country and the sufferings of Godmaert. This 
is decided. We are assembled only to discuss the 
best means of putting our plans in execution.” 


LUBOVIC AND GEllTllUBE. 


125 


‘‘ If such be the case, gentlemen,’’ said Ludovic, 
in a loud, clear voice, I have come to tell you that 
you are no longer to consider me as a member of 
your society. And that you may have no cause to 
accuse me of treachery, I declare to you, that* wher- 
ever the Spaniards combat the opponents of our 
faith, I will combat with them and not against 
them.” 

These words made a deep impression on the 
Gueux ; their brows contracted, and the epithets 
of “ coward ! traitor ! ” were hurled at the young 
man. Van Halen alone remained calm. 

Coward ! ” repeated Ludovic. To accept your 
injuries and brave your vengeance, gentlemen, de- 
mands courage. It is, however, the love of my 
country which inspires me — ” 

Your country ?” exclaimed a Gueux^ contempt- 
uously. Say rather that it is fear, — the fear of fu- 
ture punishment. Such miscalled love of country 
you must have learned from a woman ! ” 

The taunt was received with a general laugh. 
The blood rushed to Ludovic’s face, and it was evi- 
dent that he keenly felt the sarcasm. But recalling 
the object he had in view, he subdued his resentment 
by a violent eftbrt ; although his tone of voice be- 
trayed the bitterness of his feelings, as he said : 

Yes, I love my country ; but not as you do, who 
are willing to sacrifice it to a sentiment of hatred ; 
not as you do, who are ready to abandon it to a ter- 
rible contest, and inundate it with blood, to the 
profit of heresy, and of heresy alone : understand 
that well. You are right ; my mother inspired me 
with the sentiments which you ridicule.” 

11 - 


126 


LUDOVIC AND GERTKUDE. 


“ Ludovic/’said Scliuermans,“ why do you imagine 
that we are disposed to aid the enemies of our faith ? ’’ 
Do you ask why ? Have you not attended daily 
the sermons of Herman Stujek? Have you not 
enticed the people to go there armed? Have you 
not, by your opposition, caused the orders of the 
government to be despised, and rendered ineffectual 
the measures adopted by the municipal authorities ? 
Under whose protection do the new sects insult our 
religion ? Under whose protection do they prosecute 
their criminal designs ? Under yours, Messires. I do 
not regard this as a true love of country. Eeligion 
forms a part of the inheritance bequeathed to us by 
our ancestors, and, like liberty, it is the inalienable 
patrimony of our native land. Our ancient faith is 
the support, the palladium, of the Low Countries, and 
whoever thinks otherwise is my enemy.” 

Some of the Gueux listened to this harangue in 
mute astonishment ; but the greater part gnashed 
their teeth, and exhibited every mark of disdainful 
condemnation. 

“The wind has veered rapidly!” exclaimed Van 
der Voort ; “ yesterday, Gueux 1 to-day, papist ! ” 

“ Hot so,” replied Ludovic. “ I have not changed. 
I pledged myself to unite with you against the Span- 
iards ; but it was upon the express condition that 
nothing hostile to religion would be required of me ; 
and I would not have done even that much, had it 
not been to comply with a request of Godmaert. It 
is yourselves who have changed ; you have denied the 
faith of your ancestors and embraced new doctrines.” 

“ That is false 1 ” said Van Halen, interrupting him. 
“I am true to the faith.” 


LUDOVIC AND GEETRUDE. 


127 


‘‘ What do you intend to do to-morrow ? ’’ asked 
Ludovic. 

‘‘ To-morrow,” replied Van Halen, taking Ludovic’s 
hand, I will stand by your side and combat heresy.” 

A loud cry of indignation arose from the assembly. 

“ Another coward ! Another traitor ! Away with 
the fanatics ! Down with the partisans of the em- 
peror ! Cast them out ! ” 

The tumult was general. Poniards were bran- 
dished ; and they were about to put their threat of 
expulsion in execution, when Mother Schrikkel 
rushed into the hall, exclaiming : 

“ Quick, quick, Messires ; make your escape! To 
the garret ! to the cellar ! The guard is at the door ; 
the house is surrounded by armed men. Quick, dis- 
perse ! ” 

The Gueux frowned darkly upon Ludovic, as if 
accusing him of having betrayed them, but none of 
them followed the advice so urgently given by 
Mother Schrikkel. On the contrary, they formed a 
half-circle, prepared their pistols, drew their swords, 
and stood resolutely determined to defend them- 
selves courageously. 

The door opened, and a man of lofty stature and 
extraordinary strength entered. Thick mustaches 
covered his lips, and from his belt hung several 
weapons. 

“AVolfanghl” exclaimed the Gueux, thrusting 
their swords back into the scabbards. 

“Messires,” said Wolfangh, saluting them, “ what 
does this signify? AVhy this warlike attitude 
towards me ? Come up,” he called out to the men 
at the foot of the staircase ; “ come up.” 


128 


LUDOVIC AND GEETIXUDE. 


A score of brigands entered tlie hall : the Gueux 
shrank from them in disgust. 

The heavy tread of men apparently bearing a great 
weight was next heard on the staircase. 

‘‘What do you bring us, Wolfangh?’’ asked 
Ludovic. 

“ What do I bring you, Messire ? Godmaert.’’ 

“ Godmaert ! ’’ exclaimed all in surprise. 

Four men entered, bearing the old man on a feather 
bed, and placed him gently upon the floor. 

“My friends,” he said, “I am happy to see you 
once more.” 

Ludovic had already caught his hand and kissed 
it affectionately. The Gueux approached by turns 
and embraced the old man. Then they surrounded 
him, silently awaiting an explanation. 

“Wolfangh,” demanded Schuermans, “how did 
you succeed in delivering our chief? ” 

“ Messire,” replied the bandit, “ it wms done with 
little difficulty. I planned it yesterday ; and' I 
thought I would give you an agreeable surprise. I 
expected, however, to find Godmaert in better con- 
dition. I went quietly to the prison with my men. 
‘ Who goes there ? ’ called out an archer stationed 
with several others near the door. ‘Wolfangh!’ I 
replied in a voice of thunder, and before I had reached 
the prison, they had all fled. The gaoler refused to 
open the door ; but when he saw that it was giving 
way under our hammers and crowbars, he hastened 
to admit us, begging us to spare his life. Guided by 
him, we went to the tomb of the assassins, and there 
we found Godmaert. We removed the noble pris- 
oner from his bed of straw, and making use of the 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


129 


gaoler’s bed as a litter, we brought him here at his 
own request.” 

Turning to Ludovic, Wolfangh said: 

“ Messire, what is the name of the priest whom 
we found with Godmaert ? ” 

“ Father Francis. He is a Dominican.” 

The bandit repeated the name as if anxious to 
impress it upon his memory. 

“ How Godmaert ’s daughter would rejoice to know 
he was out of prison ! ” said Ludovic. 

‘‘Father Francis has gone to inform her of it,” 
replied Wolfangh. “ My boys,” he pursued, address- 
ing his companions, “ be at your post to-morrow at 
eight o’clock. How, go. Do you remain,” he said 
to the four who had carried Godmaert. 

The brigands departed, and the Gueux, after tes- 
tifying their sympathy with their chief, put the 
question as to whether the proper time had arrived 
for commencing the insurrection. Chairs were placed 
so that the Gueux could be seated around Godmaert. 
The old noble had been so benefited by the visit of 
his friends, and the repose he had been allowed, that 
he was able to move his arms ; and Ludovic noticed, 
with joy, that all danger of his immediate death had 
passed. His heart was with his beloved Gertrude, 
and he was jealous that another should have had the 
happiness of communicating to her the good news. 

“Messires,” said Godmaert, “I requested to be 
brought here that I might confer with you upon the 
course we should pursue. You have, I presume, 
already discussed the affair.” 

Houtappel cast a contemptuous glance at Ludovic, 
and approaching Godmaert, said : 

I 


130 


LUDOYIC AND GERTRUDE. 


“ To-morrow, at eight o’clock, we wTll meet on 
the public square. This is decided. "We will rouse 
tlie people by cries of ‘ Long live the Gueux ! ’ Iler- 
mau’s sermon in the Cathedral will cause consider- 
able agitation ; this we Avill turn to our advantage. 
Then we will march upon the town hall; we will 
make prisoners of every Spaniard or friend of Spain ; 
we will take military possession of the city, and we 
Avill inform our friends at Brussels and in the north- 
ern provinces of our success. "We will appoint new 
magistrates ; and w^e will engage the people to 
traverse the whole country, and expel every Span- 
iard from the cities and villages. I am confident 
that this plan will meet your approbation.” 

Godmaert reflected awhile without speaking. The 
Gueux anxiously awaited his reply, although they 
had no doubt that the old warrior would sanction 
the enterprise. Therefore, great was their conster- 
nation, when Godmaert said to them : 

“ 1 ^ 0 ] I cannot approve this project. The time has 
not yet come. We cannot now combat the Span- 
iards—” 

He, too ! ” exclaimed Houtappel, in a transport 
of fury. “ Brethren, we are betrayed, but not yet 
delivered into the hands of the enemy. Let us pur- 
sue our work Avithout troubling ourselves about 
these traitors. Let them go to heaven with the 
Spaniards, the nuns, and the priests.” 

This sarcasm roused Godmaert’s indignation ; the 
blood mounted to his cheeks, and he said, with 
severity : 

‘‘You may consider it a fortunate circumstance 
for yourself, Houtappel, that suftering has exhausted 


LUBOVIC AXD GEETRUDE. 


131 


my strengtli ; othenvise, I would have arrested in 
their utterance your impious raillery. Ludovic, re- 
strain your anger: I command you.’’ 

Iloutappel dared not brave the old man further, 
but he continued grumbling in a low tone to his 
companions, and reiterating his expressions of con- 
tempt and hatred. 

“ hTow I understand it well,” said Godmaert, to 
himself. Father Francis spoke the truth. There 
are among us enemies to the faith. Messires,” he 
continued, energetically, I owe to you who are my 
friends an explanation of my course. We all equally 
detest the Spaniards — some from personal motives, all 
because they are foreigners who oppress and insult 
us. I have greatly contributed to intensifying this 
hatred ; to-day, I regret having done so. I now see 
things in their true light; and I perceive, with sin- 
cere sorrow, what I and many of you were ignorant 
of, that all our efforts were directed against our holy 
religion. hTow, deep-seated as is my hatred of Span- 
ish rule, never will I ally myself with the enemies 
of my faith.” 

What has this acknowledgment to do with the 
revolt of to-morrow?” cried Houtappel, from the 
other end of the room. 

You understand the connection between the two 
perfectly well,” replied Godmaert ; you know that 
Herman Stujek and his adherents desire to desecrate 
the church of Our Lady ; you know that they seek 
an opportunity to devastate our temples, to break the 
images ; and you hope that the insurrection of to- 
morrow will offer the opportunity. I deplore my 
present weak state ; but for that, I might have been 


132 


LUDOYIC AND GERTRUDE. 


able to oppose successfully your impious attempts. 
And you, my friends, who have always listened to 
me with deference, I conjure you to delay the insur- 
rection. Separate yourselves from those who blush 
not to mock at holy things, even in the presence of 
this assembly.” 

A decided diflerence of opinion evidently existed 
among the Gueux. Around Houtappel and Van der 
Voot were grouped at one end of the hall those who 
were opposed to any delay. With Godmaert, there 
remained Ludovic, Van Halen, de Rydt, and about 
half of those who were present. Schuermans ran 
from one group to the other, as if uncertain which 
to join ; whilst Wolfangh stood aloof, as a stranger 
not interested in the discussion. 

Houtappel, after having spoken awhile with his 
adherents, advanced to the centre of the hall, as 
though about to hurl a defiance to his opponents, 
and raising his hand to heaven, exclaimed : 

We part company with cowards ! Let those who 
love the name of Gueux, and who wish to combat 
the Spaniards, follow us ! We will continue our de- 
liberations elsewhere. We are unwilling to be heard 
by traitors.” 

About one-half of the members of the party left 
the hall. Houtappel was disappointed when he saw 
that Wolfangh made no movement to accompany him. 

“ Come, Wolfangh ! ” he said. “What have you 
to do with peaceful people. You look as much out 
of place as a dog at a game of ninepins.” 

The bandit raised his pistol, and Houtappel would 
have paid for the jest by his life, had not Ludovic 
interfered, 
i 


LUDOYIC AND GERTRUDE. 


133 


You are in luck ! ’’ said Wolfangh. Go ! there 
is nothing in common between you and me ; and if 
you attempt to jest with me again, you will suffer 
the penalty of your raillery.’’ 

Houtappel descended the staircase grumbling. 

One Gueux remained in the hall, who had not 
decided upon the course he would pursue. 

You will not then combat to-morrow ? ” 

‘‘We will combat the enemies of our faith, 
Schuermans,” replied Van Halen. 

“ In that case, I prefer to remain with you.” 

“ I perfectly comprehend the fear expressed by the 
noble Godmaert,” said de Rydt. “ These dissemina- 
tors of new doctrines have taken advantage of the 
irritation of a part of the people, and they have 
transformed them into Iconoclasts. At first, the 
multitude hated only the Spaniards ; the new teach- 
ers have inspired them with a hatred of religion, 
and now they regard the Spaniards and the holy 
images as one and the same.” 

“ I have understood,” said Van Halen, “ that they 
propose an attack to-morrow upon the church of 
Our Lady, which they intend to pillage and burn. 
How shall we prevent this sacrilege ? ” 

“I have twenty chosen men,” said Wolfangh, 
“who will punctually execute your orders.” 

“ Master,” said one of the four brigands, “ if we 
are not permitted to pillage, the Gueux must fulfil 
their promise, or — ” 

“ Be silent, scoundrel ! ” cried Wolfangh. 

The brigand obeyed, but looked at his chief defi- 
antly. The words surprised many of the Gueux, as 
12 


134 


LUDOVIC AND GERTKUDE. 


Godmaert was the only one present who knew of the 
pledges which had been given. 

Our cause,” said the old man, has become too 
holy and sublime to admit of the employment of 
mercenaries. I will pay you the promised reward ; 
but from this moment you are released from any 
engagement to us. Return to Zoersel, if you 
wish.” 

‘‘They shall remain!” said Wolfangh, with an 
angry frown. “ I will force them to do good. ITot 
another word, wretch 1 ” 

The brigand cast down his eyes, cowed by the 
menaces of his master. 

“ Listen, Messires,” said Godmaert, “ to the plan 
which could be adopted. There are in our city 
many good and loyal citizens. Assemble them to- 
morrow morning, and unite with them in protecting 
the churches. Schuermans might call to his aid the 
people of the Klapdorp; de Rydt, the brewers of the 
Nieuw-Stad; Ludovic, our friends of the Kipdorf; 
Van Halen, the sailors of the Burgt. In a word, let 
each one bring together those upon whose fidelity 
he can rely. Go, to-morrow, to the public square and 
assist the soldiers, if necessary. Perhaps circum- 
stances may suggest a better plan ; but I am confi- 
' dent that all will go well.” 

The condition of Godmaert seemed much im- 
proved ; he had taken two glasses of wine, which 
seemed to revive him. Ludovic noticed it with 
the utmost pleasure ; he remained by the side of 
the old man, supported his head, and watched 
every movement, that he might be ready to assist 
him. 


LUDOVIC AND GERTEUDE. 


135 


The street-door opened ; the rustling of silk was 
heard on the staircase, and the next moment, Ger- 
trude, shedding tears of joy and happiness, was in 
her father’s arms. 

‘^Dearest father!” she exclaimed, ‘‘you will re- 
cover ; the color has already returned to your cheeks, 
and your arms are around my neck. Kiss me again, 
father. I thank Thee, 0 my God 1 he smiles ; he is 
restored to me ! ” . 

“ My dear child 1 ” he said ; “ what a blessing 
heaven bestowed on me in giving me such a 
daughter 1 ” 

He clasped her tenderly to his heart. 

All present contemplated this touching scene in 
silence. Many brushed away the tears which stood 
in their eyes. Wolfangh, who enjoyed at this 
moment the recompense of his good action, retired 
apart, covering his face with his hands. Ludovic 
contemplated Gertrude with deep aftection. She ap- 
proached, took his hand cordially ; then looking 
around with a radiant smile, she said : 

“Wolfangh, where are you? Thanks, thanks,” 
she added, perceiving him; “you have saved my 
father, and my grateful prayers shall ever be offered 
to heaven in your behalf.” 

The eyes of the bandit were wet with tears. 

“ Kohle lady,” he said, “ I am unworthy of your 
gratitude. However, I am happy to have been able 
to do anything pleasing to you. Your joy is an 
ample reward.” 

“Wolfangh,” said Gertrude, “it pains me to see 
that a valiant man like yourself — ” 

“ I understand you, lady,” replied the bandit ; 


136 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


‘‘ but all hope is not lost. Remember me in your 
prayers.’’ 

Whilst Gertrude talked with Wolfangh, the old 
Teresa, who had accompanied Gertrude, wept by the 
side of her master. She filled the hall with her out- 
cries, for thk was the first time she had seen God- 
maert, and she could not comprehend Gertrude’s 
happiness. She would no doubt have shared it, had 
she, like his daughter, seen him in imminent danger 
of death. Obeying Ludovic’s injunction, she con- 
trolled her violent expression of grief ; but she con- 
tinued to weep and lament. 

‘‘ Father,” said Gertrude, permit me to have you 
carried home ; the repose is necessary for you, and 
your daughter’s loving care will be powerful to 
restore you.” 

Messires,” said Godmaert, “ I will now leave 
you. Prevent, as far as possible, the commission of 
crime to-morrow, and may heaven protect you ! ” 

All present approached and tenderly bade him 
adieu. 

Wolfangh ordered the litter to be brought. 

‘‘My men,” he said, “transport the noble God- 
maert home. Keep guard around the house, and re- 
member that you answer for his safety with your 
lives.” 

“Accept my grateful thanks, Wolfangh,” said 
Gertrude, deeply moved. 

The old man, lifted carefully by the four brigands, 
was borne out of the hall amid the acclamations 
of his friends. 

“ Ludovic,” said Schuermans, “ we meet at eight 
o’clock.” 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


137 


The hall was immediately cleared ; the men 
descended the staircase. Mother Schrikkel, bolting 
the door as the last one retired, exclaimed : 

Lord Jesus ! what will transpire to-day ? ” 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE INSURRECTION. 

E VERYTHIXGr was arranged for the outbreak of 
the insurrection by which the Spanish domi- 
nation in Flanders Avas to he overthrown. Some of 
the Gueux, and those chiefly from among the nobility, 
intended and desired only to combat the foreigners ; 
hut there Avas another poAverful motive actuating by 
far the larger portion of the mass of the people. 
This Avas the hatred of sacred images. Peter Her- 
man Avas the minister at AntAverp who declaimed 
the most loudly against their veneration. By means 
of a remarkable eloquence, Avhich he had degraded 
to base purposes, he had acquired considerable influ- 
ence over the malcontents, and he had adroitly used 
it to withdraAV them from the Catholic faith. That 
the people AAmre misled and their judgment blinded 
by their hatred of Spain, appeared in the sequel by 
the numbers who abandoned their errors. But at 
the period of which Ave AAUute the so-called reform 
counted many partisans. 

On the nineteenth of August, the eve of the day 
we are speaking of, a sermon had been preached at 
12 * 




138 


LUDOVIC AND GEIITDUDE. 


Borgerliout. Very many persons were present. A 
heavy storm obliged them to leave the place. They 
talked among themselves of the necessity of a church 
for their assemblies, and this was expressed energeti- 
cally, with oaths and imprecations. Herman, per- 
ceiving that circumstances favored the attainment 
of his object, stopped the audience a little beyond the 
gate of the Kipdorf^ and, mounting the steps of a 
mill, exclaimed boldly to the people : 

To-morrow, at eight o’clock, there will be a ser- 
mon in the church of Our Lady ! ” 

As he descended the steps, the air resounded with 
the cry, Long live the Gueux ! ” 

The dawn of the terrible morrow was breaking in 
the east. Suddenly a thick, dark cloud arising in 
the west covered the heavens as with a pall, and 
obscured the rays of the sun. It seemed as though 
this splendid pearl of the crown of God was un- 
willing to shine upon the crimes which were about 
to be committed, and it had protected itself by a 
veil of frozen vapor. During the entire day, the 
atmosphere was loaded with heavy exhalations ; the 
very animals hid themselves as though it were night. 
The windows and doors were opened in the morn- 
ing as usual. The peaceful workman repaired to his 
labor, his wallet furnished with his daily meal ; the 
shopkeepers displayed their merchandise; the ser- 
vants swept the floors, — not one of them suspected 
the events so soon to transpire. 

At eight o’clock, the tranquil appearance of the 
city was changed into a scene of tumult, as the peo- 
ple swayed to and fro like a raging sea. Urged by 


LUDOVIC AND GEDTllUDE. 


139 


curiosity, the workmen left their shops, the sailors 
their ships, the citizens their families, and the mus- 
kets of the soldiers glittered amid the crowd. 
hTothing indicated that horrible crimes would be 
committed during the day, for at that period it was 
not unusual to see large crowds collected in the city. 
At intervals some imprudent and thoughtless pedes- 
trian would cry out : ‘‘Long live the Gueux!’’ and 
the words would be echoed from one to another 
throughout the difterent streets. The largest crowd 
was on the public square ; numerous archers were 
stationed there before the city hall. The magistrates 
appeared to have some knowledge of the movements 
of the Gu6ux, for the city hall had never before been 
occupied by so many troops. 

Ludovic, Van Halen, Schuermans, and their friends 
were also there. Some of them had completely dis- 
guised themselves. Schuermans had put on the thick 
waistcoat and blue breeches of a fisherman ; the 
others wore large cloaks and slouched hats. 

They were concerting together the best means to 
be adopted, when they saw the people rushing in a 
mass to the Cathedral. Eager to protect the holy 
edifice, they forced their way through the multitude, 
and succeeded in entering the chureh. The temple 
of God was profaned by the blasphemies and oaths 
of the mob ; the clang of arms resounded against the 
marble columns and fioor ; and the tombs of the saints 
were desecrated by the tread of the impious. “ The 
sermon ! the sermon ! ’’ was vociferated from every 
part of the sacred edifice. 

Herman ascended the pulpit, holding a Bible in 
his hand. He evidently did not feel himself secure, 


140 


LUDOVIC AND GEIITEUDE. 


for, in the other hand, he held a loaded pistol, with 
which he threatened to shoot any one who should 
molest him. 

Ludovic and his friends witnessed this scene with 
impatience.. 

“ There,” said the young man, “ is the chief insti- 
gator.” 

Shall I stop him at once ? ” asked Schuermans, 
of Ludovic. 

Upon being answered in the affirmative, he quickly 
ascended the pulpit, and before Herman had noticed 
his approach, Schuermans had snatched his pistol 
from his grasp and cast it to a distance on the marble 
pavement of the church. 

“ Away with you, wretch ! ” he exclaimed, or I 
will thrust you out like a dog.” 

Herman refused to leave the pulpit. Trusting in 
the support of his adherents, he endeavored to seize 
Schuermans ; but he, grasping the preacher around 
the waist^ hurled him like a stone in the midst of 
the crowd, who gave way with loud outcries. Several 
armed men sprang towards Schuermans to avenge the 
outrage done to their leader, and but for the instant 
aid afforded by his friends, the courageous Fleming 
would undoubtedly have been killed upon the spot. 
A sharp struggle ensued. The Iconoclasts wished to 
get possession of the pulpit, and they continued to 
cry out that these men were Spaniards. 

So far, arms had not been used ; the contest was 
confined to blows. 

They had fought thus for some time, when a for- 
eigner gave a poniard thrust at Schuermans and 
slightly wounded him in the arm. A few drops of 


L-UDOyiC AND GEKTEUDE. 14:1 

blood fell, tlie sight of which so exasperated his 
friends that they at once drew their daggers. A 
bloody contest seemed inevitable, and a number of 
the spectators rushed into the street with loud 
cries. 

Suddenly those who were near the door of the 
Cathedral were driven by an irresistible force into the 
interior of the temple ; it seemed as though the 
pressure of the crowd would move the pulpit from 
its foundations. 

Wolfangh, foaming with rage, entered the church, 
accompanied by twenty well-armed men. At the 
sight of these unknown persons, whose very counte- 
nances stamped them as assassins, the combat ceased 
for a moment. 

‘^Ludovic,” said Wolfangh, ‘‘what are your com- 
mands ? And he brandished his rapier above his 
head. 

“Stop!” said the young man; “our numbers are 
too small to prevent the sermon ; we would uselessly 
shed blood. We will first go to the city hall, and 
obtain sufficient aid to secure the success of our en- 
terprise, and we will then return and clear the 
church of the blasphemers. Come, there is no time 
for delay.” 

They departed, under the impression that the ser- 
mon would be continued ; but no sooner had they 
gone, when one long shout arose: “Down with 
the idols ! down with the idols 1 ” 

Then the Iconoclasts commenced their work by 
throwing filth upon, the images of the saints. For 
awhile they contented themselves with this kind of 
outrage ; at last, one of them stood before a statue 


142 LUDOVIG AND GERTRUDE. 

of Saint Eocli, and crying aloud that animals should 
not be suffered in the temple of God, he hurled to 
the ground the marble dog which ornamented the 
pedestal. Another attempted to cast down the 
statue of the saint, hut it was so firmly attaclied to 
the wall that he was unable to move it ; he fell to 
the ground himself, the blood spouting from his 
mouth and ears. 

Down with the idols ! Long live the Gueux ! 
cried out thousands of voices, and upon the instant 
the Iconoclasts had provided themselves with ropes, 
hatchets, mattocks, and other instruments. 

Furiously they battered the walls of the edifice, 
brutally destroying whatever resembled an image. 
The costly altars of exquisite workmanship, pictures, 
marble ornaments, all were hurled down, hacked to 
pieces, or broken with hammers, amid a volley of 
oaths and imprecations. The holy hosts were snatched 
from the tabernacle and trampled under foot. It 
seemed as though the Omnipotent withheld His 
avenging arm, that their crimes and attendant pun- 
ishment might accumulate upon their heads. 

Until then they had mutilated and broken only 
the images and other decorations Avhich were within 
their reach. Against the wall still hung a picture ; 
it was a masterpiece, representing Christ dying on 
the cross for the salvation of mankind. Many of the 
Iconoclasts had already cast furious glances upon this 
painting, but none had dared approach it. Before it 
stood an old man, his gray hair falling over his 
shoulders, with a pistol in hand, prepared to dis- 
charge it at the first man who should venture to 
come near. 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


143 


The clesecrators of the temple at last collected in 
large numbers before the old man, and threw at him 
fragments of the broken statues, in order to drive 
him away ; hut he remained immovable, apparently 
insensible to all their outrages. 

Suddenly one of the aggressors glided behind him 
and threw him to the ground. The pistol was fired, 
and one of the assailants received the contents in his 
breast. 

‘‘ Kill him ! kill him ! ’’ resounded through the 
church. 

My picture ! Oh, my Christ ! ’’ exclaimed the 
artist, in despair. 

He saw the painting torn from the wall ; he saw 
it fall in shreds by his side, at the very moment that 
a Gueux pierced his heart with a dagger. The un- 
happy artist hounded in the death-struggle, and he 
fell at full length upon his tattered picture, which 
he had loved as his life. True to the intention ex- 
pressed to Ludovic, Van Hort had oftered his blood 
as a holocaust to art upon the masterpiece created 
by his hands. 

The Iconoclasts left the body of Van Hort lying 
upon the ground and resumed the work of destruc- 
tion. Majestic statues of the twelve Apostles 
adorned the columns which supported the dome. 
High ladders were brought, and, provided with ropes 
and hatchets, the blasphemers did their work so well 
that the beautifully sculptured images were thrown 
from their pedestals and broken into a thousand 
pieces. Many people were wounded by their fall, 
and the church echoed to their cries and groans. But 
nothing could restrain these vandals ; they had be- 


144 


LTJDOVIC AND GEDTDUDE. 


come too infuriated. So encumbered was the ground 
with the wn^eck of works of art, that it was difficult 
to pass through the edifice. 

Amid the ruins of these beautiful creations of the 
painter and sculptor, one magnificent statue stood 
unharmed. It was that known under the name of 
Our Lady of Antwerp. A crown composed of the 
finest diamonds surmounted the head. A mantle 
of gold cloth embroidered with pearls fell in rich 
folds from the shoulders. She held the infant Jesus 
in her arms. 

It seemed strange that this exquisite statue with its 
costly ornaments had been left so long untouched. 
It occupied a prominent place in the church ; for it 
stood in the centre upon a magnificent pedestal. 

The fanatics had completed the work of destruction 
with the one exception. They now collected around 
this image of the Mother of Giod. There was a 
moment’s pause, as if even their impious hearts were 
awed by its dazzling loveliness. At last, one among 
the crowd, reeling from intoxication, staggered to- 
wards it, exclaiming : 

‘‘Are you afraid of the piece of clay or of the 
tinsel which covers it ? Down with it ! ” And he 
concluded with so horrible a blasphemy that his 
very companions in crime shuddered. 

“ Shout, Long live the Gueux ! ” he howled, “ or 
I will crush you to atoms.” 

Suiting the action to the words, with a powerful 
effort he succeeded in casting the statue to the 
ground.* 

* The jewels were stolen, the mantle cut to pieces, the crown broken, 
and the mutilated statue was left lying on the marble pavement. 


LUDOVIC AND GEETRUDE. 


145 


Had Wolfangli’s men abandoned their chief and 
joined the Iconoclasts? It seemed probable; for 
among those who seemed foremost in grasping the 
jewels as the statue fell, were four or five repulsive- 
looking men, who one hour before had left the 
Cathedral with the brigand. 

Having demolished all the ornaments of the temple, 
the frenzied mob began to pillage. They laid their 
sacrilegious hands upon the sacred vessels, stole cibo- 
riums, ostensoriums, golden crucifixes and chandeliers. 
They broke into the sacristy, clothed themselves in 
the vestments, in which they strutted about singing 
indecent songs. 

Ho hand was raised in opposition to these horrible 
crimes. Ludovic and "Wolfangh, seeing that their 
numbers were wholly insufiicient to contend with the 
thousands of opponents, had hurried to the city hall, 
and begged to have a detachment of archers sent to 
the Cathedral ; but a nearer danger prevented the 
authorities from granting this petition. Suddenly, 
in the direction of the portion of the city^ where the 
Spanish residences were most numerous, the sound 
of fire-arms was heard, v^hich, together with furious 
clamors, indicated a bloody contest. A large number 
of archers immediately deserted their ranks and 
hastened to their homes, in order to protect their 
own houses from pillage ; so that the burgomaster 
dared not leave the city hall unprotected by sending 
elsewhere the few archers who had remained at their 
post. 

The clamor and shots which had been heard were 
caused by an attack directed against the quarter of 
the Spaniards by Houtappel and his adherents, 

13 K 


146 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


The Spaniards had expected this assault, and they 
had prepared to defend themselves by arranging 
their servants and dependants in front of their 
dwellings. Thus, when the Gueux presented them- 
selves, they met a vigorous resistance, and they were 
obliged to retreat with the loss of several men. 
This check only increased their rage. Houtapjpel 
harangued his men, and they rushed to the attack 
with renewed fury. 

The Gueux being more numerous than their 
enemies, gained this time a decided advantage. They 
pushed forward to the very ranks of the Spaniards, 
killed all who resisted, put the rest to flight, and re- 
mained masters of the fleld of battle. 

The dead and wounded were transported to the 
Pecrdeken., where, having provided their companions 
with proper attention, the Gueux returned to the 
quarter of the Spaniards, forced the doors of all the 
houses, and only desisted from the work of pillage 
and slaughter when not a Spaniard was left upon 
whom to vent their fury. 

During all this time, the Iconoclasts were occupied 
in demolishing the statuary and pillaging the temple 
of Our Lady. Herman remained at his post .en- 
couraging the people to destroy the idols,’’ and in- 
citing them to desecrate, in like manner, all the 
other churches of the city. 

They went out from the Cathedral in procession, 
carrying banners, hangings, silvei’ crosses, and other 
similar articles. Many wore in mockery chasubles, 
stoles, and other sacerdotal vestments. They sang in 
coarse, rough voices, and in a discordant manner, the 
psalms arranged in rhyme by Clement Marot. They 


LUDOVIC AND GERTKUDE. 


• 147 - 


dragged tlirougli the mud the richly-embroidered 
banners, and then paraded them thus defiled through 
the streets, while they unceasingly vociferated: 
‘‘ Long live the Gueux ! ’’ 

Ludovic and Wolfangh, with about a dozen friends, 
were not far from the city hall, and they witnessed 
with horror the odious profanation, which they were 
powerless to prevent. A second time they appealed to 
the authorities for- aid, but the magistrates consid- 
ered it more prudent not to expose the small number 
of soldiers who had. remained faithful to their duty. 

Ludovic, thoroughly discouraged, and scarcely able 
to restrain tears of rage, was leaning against a col- 
umn, viewing the scene with horror, when a sight 
presented itself which caused him to start as if shot 
by a ball. 

Look, look ! ’’ he exclaimed. The wretches are 
bearing *the Blessed Sacrament ! They dare to in- 
sult the Uving God ! No consideration must have 
weight in such circumstances. . Come, let us die, if 
we must ; but let us be true to our faith, and snatch 
the Holy of Holies from the sacrilegious villains ? ’’ 
Saying this, he drew his sword, and was about to 
precipitate himself upon them, when Wolfangh 
caught his arm and held him in a tight grasp, whis- 
pering in his ear : 

Look at me, Ludovic, and tell me if you do not 
believe that rage and fury are consuming me, and 
yet I restrain an imprudent exhibition of it. Leave 
to me the honor and glory of accomplishing your 
holy design. You would not succeed, because you 
could not control your passion. In this case, force 
is of no avail. Ho you remain here and let me go.’^ 


148 ’ 


LUDOyiC AND GERTRUDE. 


Wolfaiigli drew a dagger from under liis cloak, 
tried the edge with his finger, then glided stealthily 
among the Iconoclasts until he came near the man 
who held aloft the Blessed Sacrament. What was 
his surprise, on recognizing one of his own men ! He 
stopped and unsheathed his dagger; but a sudden 
thoiio-ht struck him. Puttino; his mouth close to 

o o 

the ear of the bandit, he said, decidedly and energet- 
ically : Bernard, you shall die. My dagger is 
aimed at your heart. 

The brigand turned pale as death ; a convulsive 
shudder ran through every limb. He knew the voice 
of him who spoke in his ear. 

But I will pardon you, and spare your life,” he 
added ; “ if you give me, unperceived, what you carry 
in your hands.” 

The brigand, stooped as if to pick up some article 
from the ground ; when he arose, the ostensorium 
was no longer in his possession. It might have been 
observed that AVolfangh slightly elevated his cloak 
with his left elbow. He did not return immediately 
to join Ludovic, but directed his steps towards the 
city hall, where he intrusted his precious burden to 
the charge of the burgomaster. 

An hour later, Ludovic left his friends under the 
pretext of going home, but it was to indulge his sad 
thoughts unmolested. Wholly absorbed in his sor- 
row at the horrors he had witnessed, he walked the 
streets without paying attention to what was going 
on around him. 

A sentiment of shame kept him away from God- 
maert. How could he relate all that had occurred, 
when he had been unable to prevent the commission 
of the crimes ! 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


149 


The Iconoclasts, seeing how utterly powerless the 
authorities were to protect the city, continued their 
devastations. 'Not an image was left untouched 
either over a door or in a niche, and if at times a 
peaceful citizen opposed their violence, he was cruelly 
maltreated. Many inhabitants, roused hy these sac- 
rileges to a sense of the intentions of the Gueux, 
separated themselves from the- party. * 

The sun shone out from under the clouds, and 
poured its rays upon the wreck of the works of art 
piled in heaps in the public square. Groups of men 
traversed the streets in triumph with shouts of exul- 
tation. They carried with them ladders, hatchets, 
ropes, and other instruments. When, in their prog- 
ress, they saw an image decorating an edifice, how- 
ever high it might he placed, they mounted to it 
amid the acclamations of the mob, and the statue 
fell upon the pavement broken to pieces, and the 
multitude applauded. 

All the shops were closed, the churches devas- 
tated, the public buildings and private houses de- 
faced. Wrecks of exquisite marble encumbered the 
thoroughfares. One might have supposed that the 
citizens of Antwerp, struck by sudden madness, 
were bent upon destroying their own city. 

Many of these excesses were committed^ in the 
streets and squares through which Ludovic passed. 
Before the church of Saint James he saw a large fire, 
which was fed by pictures and other sacred and val- 
uable articles. Beaching the convent of the Eecol- 
lets, he found the mob engaged in pillaging it, 
having first expelled and ill-treated the priests. At 
this sight, he felt a keen anxiety as to the fate of 


150 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


Fatlicr Francis, and, shaking off the excessive grief 
which had paralyzed his energies, he walked rapidly 
towards the cattle-market in order to discover the 
good Father and protect him from insult. 

When he came within sight of the Dominican con- 
vent, he found it surrounded by so great a crowd, 
that it Avas with extreme ditSculty he succeeded in 
gaining the interior, which he found filled with a 
vandal horde. They Avere fighting Avith each other 
over the silver chandeliers of the chapel ; they pro- 
faned the holy place by their blasphemies ; drunken 
revellers occupied the refectory of the priests, and 
joined in shouts gnd jeers. 

Ludovic forced his Avay through the impious croAvd 
Avithout noticing their insulting raillery ; he ascended 
the staircase leading to the cell of Father Francis ; 
there he found but fcAv persons. The cells Avere open ; 
many of the doors, by their dilapidated condition, 
gave evidence of the violence which had been used. 
The heart of the young man sank within him ; and 
although he continued his search, he had little hope 
of being in time to serve his friend. Suddenly he 
heard, at a distance, a shout of triumph. 

Here is another ! Cast the dog into the street ! ’’ 

Ludovic rushed in the direction Avhence the sounds 
proceeded, pushed aside three or four persons from 
the door of an humble cell, and entered ; whilst the 
men, surprised at his sudden advent, and not knoAV- 
ing aaTio he wa^, allowed him to pass. 

Father Francis Avas lying prostrate upon t]]0 
ground before a crucifix ; he was in fervent prayer. 
Ludovic cast himself on his knees by his side, and 
took his hand. 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


151 


Father,” he said, it is I ; it is Ludovic, jour 
son. I come to save you.” 

The priest, rising to his knees, looked gratefully 
at Ludovic ; then fixing his eyes upon the image of 
his crucified Lord, he said : 

Ludovic, my dear son, I thank you for this 
proof of afiection, but I will not go with you. I 
will die here, in this cell, if God now calls me from 
life. Do not disturb my devotions. I wish to die 
with the name of the Lord upon my lips. Go, and 
leave me to my fate.” 

Ludovic threw his .arm around the priest. 

“ Leave you to die, my good Father ! FTever. 
Gome, there is still hope of escape. I will defend 
you, or I will die with you.” 

“Ludovic, be reasonable. The crown of martyr- 
dom is offered me : would you have me reject it ? 
God has granted me seventy years of life upon 
earth, and now, Avhen my appointed time has 
come — ” 

“ Your words are holy. Father, hut I cannot listen 
to them. Think of Gertrude ; think of Godmaert. 
You alone can console them; your death would be 
followed by theirs. As for Godmaert, he would feel 
that he had been partly the cause of your murder, 
and that he would, in a measure, be answerable for 
youY blood. You. know this would be the case, for 
he instigated your enemies to revolt. Can you, 
dear Father, cause him this^life-long remorse, and 
put it in Gertrude’s power to accuse her father of 
being the author of the crime? No, no; you will 
not be so cruel. You are too good, too generous, to 
inflict such pain on your best friend.” 


152 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


Whilst he thus spoke, Ludovic had gently forced 
the priest to rise, an 1 had drawn him towards the 
door. 

I will accompany you, my son,’’ said the reli- 
gious at last; ‘‘hut upon condition that you con- 
form to my wishes as faithfully as if they were posi- 
tive commands. Perhaps I shall be insulted, ill- 
treated ; you must sufter with me wdthout murmur 
or resistance. Whatever may happen, even should 
I be deprived of life, my dying injunction is that 
you do not revenge my death, that you do not even 
attempt to defend me. I forbid you to do so. Have 
you the courage to accept my conditions ? ” 

“Yes, Father; I will do wdiatever you desire, if 
you will only go with me.” 

They crossed the threshold of the cell ; injuries 
and outrages assailed them at every step they took. 
They wmre forced to pass through the crowal in the 
refectory, wdio w^ere already maddened by drink. 
Yo sooner did the priest appear, than on all sides 
arose the cry : 

“ A monk ! a monk ! ” 

In an instant. Father Francis was surrounded by 
the vile miscreants, who insulted him in every man- 
ner. One violently pulled his cowl, another threw 
beer in his face; but the priest, casting down his 
eyes, slowly moved on, apparently insensible to 
these outrages ; his habit was in shreds, and the beer 
streamed from his venei’able head. 

Ludovic looked terrible in his Avrath. He w^as 
roused to a frenzy ; he gnashed his teeth, and un- 
consciously held the hand of ‘the priest in so tight a 
grasp that the bones almost broke under the pressure. 


LUDOVIC AND GEDTKUDE. 


153 


But lie was determined to observe, at any sacrifice, 
the orders imposed upon liim by the lioly old man. 

Having been thus brutally treated, they at last 
reached the cattle-market ; but there the difliculties 
increased for them. A large crowd had collected ; 
some screamed in the ears of the priest oaths and 
blasphemies ; others hurled at him mud and filth. 

Perfectly infuriated, Ludovic had several times 
said to*Father Francis : 

“ Oh ! Father, release me from my promise. It is 
impossible for me to control myself longer ; I must 
defend you. For the love of God, I implore you, 
let me avenge the insults oflered you, and die, if I 
must.’’ 

But the priest replied : 

‘‘ 0 Ludovic, what a happiness to suffer for our 
fidelity to God ! Think of the Christian heroes of 
ancient times. They were tortured, burned alive, ex- 
posed to wild beasts ; but from the midst of boiling 
oil, under the teeth of lions and tigers, a complaint 
never escaped them; never did they form a wish for 
revenge ; they lifted their pure hands to heaven, and 
prayed for their executioners. Follow their exam- 
ple, my son ; perhaps this very day we may enter 
heaven with our brows eiicircled by the crown of 
martyrdom.” 

At the corner of a street not far from the gate of 
the cattle-market was a house partly built, and near 
it a heap of broken slate. 

Ludovic had hardly passed the place, when a piece 
of slate grazed his ear. This was followed by a vol- 
ley of missiles, and one of them ‘struck the un- 
covered head of Father Francis. When Ludovic 


154 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


saw the blood streaming down his venerable face, 
his wrath knew no bounds ; forgetting entirely the 
orders of the Father, he rushed upon the miscreant 
who had caused the wound, and thrust his s^yord 
with such force into his body that the point appeared 
in his back. 

In the meantime. Father Francis had fallen insen- 
sible upon the pavement. 

Ludovic, uttering a cry of anguish, ran to him, 
partly raised him, and succeeded in so placing him 
that his back was supported by the wall of a neigh- 
boring house. The persecutors returned with in- 
creased fury to the charge — hurling mud and stones 
and any missile they could lay their hands upon. 
Not knowing how to save his friend, Ludovic pro- 
tected him to the best of his power by kneeling 
before him, and receiving the blows upon his own 
person. At last, the assailants attacked them on the 
other side, and some of the projectiles struck the 
priest. Recovering from his faint, he strove to push 
Ludovic away. 

0 Ludovic ! let me die. Do not expose yourself 
for me, and deprive me of the crown of martyrdom. 
I will pray for you in heaven. Bid me a last adieu, 
and go, my son.’’ 

Ludovic made no replj" ; he was wholly absorbed 
ill watching the stones as they flew around them, 
that his own body might serve as a 'shield to pro- 
tect the priest. The assailants had now become so 
numerous, that he could no longer ward off* the stones 
from the religious, and he cast his arms around 
Father Francis, pressing him to his heart. 

“ Here is the last embrace, Father, but it is not an 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


155 


adieu. We will die together for our God. I, too, 
will be a martyr. What happiness ! ” 

He ceased speaking, and bowed his head upon 
Father Francis’s shoulder. And thus he would have 
remained until death should come to release him, 
had not a heavy stone which struck the priest, drawn 
from him unconsciously a cry of pain. Ludovic 
sprang to his feet, gazed around in agony to see if 
there was any hope of aid. All at once, he perceived 
in the distance some men approaching whom he 
recognized. 

Joy illumined his countenance, and he called out 
in a loud voice: 

“ Wolfangh ! Wolfangh ! ” 

At the very name of Wolfangh, the stones seemed 
fastened to the hands of the assailants. They looked 
around in terror to discover if he who bore the 
dreaded name of Wolfangh was really approaching. 

About a dozen men, the friends whom he had left 
at the city hall, soon joined Ludovic. 

‘‘Wolfangh! Schuermans ! ” he exclaimed, point- 
ing to Father Francis ; “ see how they have treated 
an old man of seventy years.” 

. “All!” cried Wolfangh, “there are then in the 
world men worse than myself. The wretches shall 
pay for this with their blood 1 ” 

He cast an eye of pity on Father Francis and one 
of rage upon the authors of his sufferings ; then he 
caught a dagger in each hand, plunged his head 
between his shoulders, and rushed roaring like a wild 
beast upon the crowd. Before Schuermans and the 
others could follow, several were stretched upon 
the ground weltering in blood, and the rest had fled, 
raising an alarm by the cry : 


156 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


^^Wolfangh! -Wolfangli 

Then Wolfangh returned to Father Francis, and 
contemplated with indignation the noble features of 
the venerable priest, scarcely to be recognized from 
the mud and blood which covered them. He seemed 
petrified by the sight ; but soon recovering his pres- 
ence. of mind, he ran to the opposite house, called 
and knocked at the door ; but it was not opened. 

Infuriated, he seized a heavy block of stone from 
the building materials lying near, and hurled it 
against the door, which was burst in with a loud 
crash. 

W olfangh soon emerged from the house, carrying 
in one hand a basin of water, and in the other a linen 
towel. He knelt by the priest, and bathed his 
wounds Vv^ith the skill of a surgeon. 

Then was seen the ^reat change which had taken 

O o 

place in Father Francis. The loss of blood had de- 
prived him of strength ; he was ashy pale, and his 
lips were purple. And yet there was on his counte- 
nance a heavenly expression of resignation, and an 
angelic smile illumined his face. 

Ludovic, kneeling by his side, aided Wolfangh in 
dressing his wounds. 

You are saved, dear Father,’’ said the young man, 
tenderly. ‘‘ Your wounds. Avill heal ; you will yet be 
spared to us.” 

Ludovic,” answered the priest, God has de- 
creed my fate, and granted me the crown of martyr- 
dom. I shall die, not of the wounds you dross ; but 
the last stone crushed my chest. I feel that my last 
hour has come. Grieve not for me ; my fate is too 
glorious. I will pray for you, my son.” 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


157 


"Wolfangh and Scliuermans carefully raised Father 
Francis, and conducted him slowly towards God- 
maerFs dwelling, whilst Van Ilalen and the others 
formed a guard, determined to shoot down any one 
wdio should dare to impede their progress. 

Having reached the house, they were admitted by 
Teresa. 


CHAPTER X. 

THE DEATH OF FATHER FRANCIS. 

a ODMAERT and his daughter were seated to- 
gether in the library. They neither spoke nor 
moved ; all their thoughts and anxiety were concen- 
trated on one point. They knew that the churches 
had been sacked and desecrated ; they had heard that 
the priests and religious had been driven from their 
homes and ill-treated. Godmaert was grieved to his 
soul by the thought that he himself had once given 
aid to the party guilty of these sacrileges ; he thought 
with terror, of Father Francis, of whose fate he was 
ignorant. 

Gertrude vfas in like manner a prey to the keenest 
anxiety. She had not seen Ludovic since the pre- 
ceding night, nor had she been able to obtain the 
least information as to his movements. Father 
Francis, who in every situation of sorrow or danger 
had ever been by her side as a guardian angel, had 
not been to the house. Her fears, anxiety, and 
doubts found vent in the frequently reiterated 
words : 

14 


158 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. 


‘‘ They are dead ! yes, they are dead ! ’’ 

Suddenly, Teresa rushed into the library, exclaim- 
ing : 

They have come ! Father Francis and Ludovic 
are here ! ” 

Gertrude greeted the announcement with an ex- 
clamation of joy, and she sprang to the door .to meet 
them. . - 

But when she saw that the garments of Ludovic 
were covered with mud and blood, when she saw the 
blood dripping from the wounds of his hands, and, 
above all, when her eye fell upon Father Francis, she 
stood terror-stricken and overpowered by grief. 

Godmaert mechanically covered his face with his 
hands to shut out the painful spectacle. 

The priest was dying. He was rather lifted than 
supported by Wolfangh and Schuermans ; his limbs 
refused to take a step. Still, his heart was full of 
courage and his intellect unclouded. 

Gertrude alone, after recovering from the first 
shock, seemed to have the presence' of mind to do 
what was necessary under the circumstances. 
Whilst the others gazed with tender compassion upon 
the venerable old man, Gertrude summoned the ser- 
vants. One she sent for a surgeon ; another for a 
IDhysician ; others were despatched for pillows, sheets, 
wine, and cordials. She gave her orders with a trem- 
bling voice and with burning cheeks, as if she were 
consumed by fever. Then, without a thought of 
Ludovic, she approached Father Francis, and wished 
to place him on the bed which she had prepared ; but 
he objected, and taking Gertrude’s hand, he .said, 
whilst a heavenly smile lighted his face : 


LUDOVIO AND GERTRUDE. 


159 


My dear dangliter, this trouble is useless. I am 
about to leave this world to be united forever to my 
God in heaven. But why should you Aveep for me, 
when my soul is inundated with happiness, such hap- 
piness as I have never knoAvn before ? I have lived 
a long life ; many favors, have been bestowed upon 
me ; and now, uiiAvorthy as I am of so great a mercy, 
the highest grace of all is granted me. I die for the 
holy name of God ! ” 

Far different Avas the impression made upon the 
young girl by these words from what might have 
been expected. Instead of weeping, joy illumined 
her countenance ; a smile parted her lips, and she 
gazed upon the priest in a heavenly contemplation. 
The change was produced by the expression of holi- 
ness Avhich settled upon the features of the old man, 
by his Avords full of heavenly joy, AAdiich made her 
realize that a death like this AA^as a precious gift 
from God. The sadness of her soul gave place to a 
sweet and calm resignation. 

‘‘ Yes, Father, I understand you. I yield you to 
death ; you may die, and I Avill not weep for you. I 
will not complain, for heaven is open to receive you, 
and a life of eternal felicity awaits you.” 

A physician entered, approached the priest and 
considered him attentively. Godmaert directed his 
chair to be Avheeled close to Father Francis. All 
watched the countenance of the physician with in- 
tense anxiety. At last, Ludovic said : 

Is there any hope ? ” 

The doctor made no reply ; but AAdien Ludovic a 
second time put the same question, he ansAvered : 

“ He has not more than a half-hour to live ! ” 


160 


LUDOVIC A>TD GERTRUDE. 


A mournful silence succeeded this announcement. 
Godmaert passed his arm around the neck of his 
dying friend, and said, whilst tears flowed dov/n his 
aged cheeks : 

‘‘My Father, my friend, tell me that you forgive 
me. I Vv^ell know that I am in part answerable for 
the shedding of your innocent blood, and I shall 
sufter the penalty unless your prayers avert the pun- 
ishment. Pardon me. I aided the profanation of 
the temples of my God. I aided the destruction of 
the ancient faith. I must bear a terrible responsibility 
for all the sacrileges committed. I urged on the citi- 
zens to those frightful excesses which have cost your 
life. Oh, pardon ! pardon ! ’’ 

The face of his friend was illumined by a smile so 
angelic, his expression was so touchingly kind and 
benevolent, that Godmaert raised his cold hand to 
his lips and said, joyfully : 

“ You have pardoned me ! ’’ 

The eyes of the priest were becoming glazed, and 
for a time he seemed unable to reply to Godmaert ’s 
supplication for pardon ; but he summoned all his 
strength to speak for the last time to those who were 
so dear to him. He made a sign to them to approach 
nearer to him, and said : 

“ My children, I am dying. Go'dmaert, you have 
sinned, but your repentance is sincere. In the name 
of God, whose servant I am, I pardon you. Be not 
afflicted by the fear that the enemies of our faith will 
triumph. The Church of Jesus Christ is invincible. 
Her glory is in being persecuted, in struggling with 
her persecutors lies her strength. Wolfangh, go to 
the Abbot of Saint Bernard, he will teach you the 


LUDOVIC AND GERTRUDE. ' 161 

path to pursue. The cloister will calm your passions ; 
you will find favor with God. As for you, my dear 
children, I appreciate your aftection for me. hTever 
waver in yonr ardent love of God, in your firm 
attachment to the only true faith. Gertrude, Ludo- 
vic, you will be united when the Church — will have 
laid aside her garments of mourning. From heaven 
— my soul — will watch over you. Be happy — love 
each other — ’’ His voice became weak and indistinct. 
By a strong effort, he extended his right hand and 
laid it on the heads of the two lovers kneeling by his 
side, and his lips moved as if in prayer. His hand 
fell powerless. He raised his eyes to heaven, and 
with an expiring effort pronounced distinctly the 
sublime words : 

‘‘ Glory to God on high, and peace on earth to men 
of good will.” 

14 * 


THE END. 


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MURPHY & CO’S New and Recent Publications. 
THE JIAEriJSFESS OF HEAVEN. 
By a Father* of the Society oftTesus, 

Fifth Revised Edition, cop 8o. tinted paper, SI ; cloth, gilt. Si. 50. 

The sale of nearly 10,000 copies in two years, and the constantly 
increasing demand, the praises bestowed by the Press — both Catholic 
and non-Catholic — are gratifying evidences of the real merits of this 
charming volume. 

That the reader may judge of the character of this charming vol- 
ume, we submit the Table of Contents: 

1. The Beatific Vision. — 2. In the Beatific Vision, “ "We shall be like 
Him, because we shall see Him as He is.” — 3. In the Beatific Vision, 
our Intellect is glorified, and our Thirst for Knowledge completely 
gratified. — 4. In the Beatific Vision, our AVill is also to be glorified, 
and then we shall be happy in loving and being loved. — 5. The Beauty 
and Glory of the Risen Body. — 6. The Spirituality of the Risen Body. 

— 7. The Impassibility and Immortality of the Risen Body. — 8. Sev- 
eral Errors to be avoided in our Meditations on Heaven. — 9. The Life 
of the Blessed in Heaven. — 10. Pleasures of the Glorified Senses. — 
11. Social joys of Heaven. — 12. Will the knowledge that some of our 
own are lost, mar our happiness in Heaven ? — 13. The Light of Glory. 

— 14. Degrees of Happiness in Heaven. — 15. Degrees of Enjoyment 
through the Glorified Senses. — 16. The Glory of Jesus and Mary. — 
17. The Glory of the Martyrs. — 18. The Glory of the Doctors and 
Confessors. — 19. The Glory of Virgins and Religious. — 20. Glory of 
Penitents and Pious People. — 21. Eternity of Heaven’s Happiness. 

Extracts from Notices of tlie Press. 

“ This volume will please the pious and the learned. It will satisfy, 
at the same time, the exactions of literary critics and the wishes ot 
the most fastidious theologians; the former by its accurate and flow- 
ing style, and the latter by the solidity of its theological foundations 

— continually underlying the treatise, though rarely set forward. 
This is one of the volumes that can be unqualifiedly commended.” 

N, Y. Freeman's Journal. 

“ It draws out, in successive chapters, what can be known about the 
Beatific Vision, the perfection of the intellect and will, the properties 
of glorified bodies, and social joys of heaven. The book deserves all 
praise.” London Monthly. 

“ J>Iany will, perhaps, be astonished to learn that the happiness of 
the Saints does not consist in being eternally on their knees beforo 
the throne of God, and in profound adoration’of the Divine Majesty, 
or in being so overpowered by the vision of God as to be changed into 
motionless statues for eternity. This is the whole idea of heaven in 
many a pious mind. The author does away with all these incorrect 
and vague notions which float in the popular mind. He maintains 
that the sight of God, far from interfering with the activities of our 
nature, perfects every one of them, and that all, without exception, 
have suitable or appropriate objects to act upon, and that it is, more- 
over, precisely in such action that the happiness of heaven consists.” 

Philadelphia Catholic Standard. 

Miit'pfiy tt* Co., Vuhll.sher.^t and TiooJi.’t filler.^, Ttaltitnore, 


Happiness of Heaven ^ Notices of the Press , . 

“The hook is certainly written by a man of learning, who instructs 
by the force of his reasoning, and charms by the elegance of his style ; 
but its value is enhanced by the tender, genuine kindness that speaks 
from every page. The author feels what he says, and the words of 
consolation, sympathy and encouragement that fall so naturally from 
his pen, come from a heart filled with a sincere and earnest love for* 
his fellow men.” Philadelphia Age. 

“We might, perhaps, appropriately designate this work as the 
Popular Theology of Heaven.’ Theology^ because it is strictly accu- 
rate in its dogmatic teaching; Popular, because the subject, without 
being lowered, is brought within the sphere of the popular mind. 
We might call it also the ‘Spiritual Geography of Heaven,’ since it 
gives us such a knowledge as we can have at this distance of the 
promised land, which we must hope one day to inhabit.” 

Catholic World. 

“ This is a good Catholic book. The style is easy, graceful and flow- 
ing Isaac Taylor’s ‘Physical Theory of another Life’ is a more 

ambitious book, and deals in more gorgeous speculations, but we doubt 
if, on the whole, it produces a more salutary impression on the heart 
of the Christian reader.” Southern lieview, St. Louis, Mo. 

“There is not a single dull and uninteresting page in the book, and 
the logical reasoning and theological accuracy that pervade it, are 
rendered clear and distinct to the comprehension of every reader by 
the simplicity and force of the comparisons and illustrations inter- 
spersed throughout.” Philadelphia Telegraph. 

“This is a strictly religious book, and one that will be read with 
thrills of joy hy devotional people. Probably it ought to be read by 
everybody, for, in picturing the happiness of heaven, the learned 
author has endeavored to contribute to the happiness of earth.” 

Missouri Pepublican. 

“In the chapter on the ‘Social Joys of Heaven,’ the author reveals 
a knowledge of, and sympathy with, the tenderest and truest chords 
of our nature; the doctrine of the recognition and enjoyment of our 
loved ones in heaven is accepted the more gratefully, as it accords 
with the natural instincts of the heart.” A". Y. Irish American. 

“ The Happiness of Heaven is an excellent book, and its perusal 
cannot fail detaching our souls from the affections of this world, 
making us patient in trials, and impatient to reach heaven.” 

Boston Pilot. 

“ The style is pure and graceful, reminding one, by its easy flow, of 
Irving or Goldsmith. * * * The book should be a vade mecum with 
every Protestant as well as Catholic. No doctrinal points are touched 
upon. It is not controversial, hut appeals to the piously disposed ot 
every creed and denomination.” Wilmington {Del.) Gazette. 

“The chapters on the Beatific Vision, the Beauty and Glory of the 
Risen Body, Social Joys in Heaven, the Special Glory awarded to dif- 
ferent kinds of sanctity, are particularly fine.” Catholic Eecard. 

“It is one of the most charming books we have ever read, and 
though religious in its character, and severe in its logic and theology, 
j^et so interspersed is it throughout with beautiful, simple and effect- 
ive parables and illustrations, and so easy and flowing in its style, 
that even the reader who has seldom or never dipped before into lit- 
erature of this kind, will be delighted with its perusal.” 

Wilmington (Del.) Advertiser . ' 

M^trphy Co., ^iblishers and Doohsellers, Baltintar^. 


GOn OUn FATHJEB. 

Ijy the Author of Happiness of Heaven, 

Second Revised Edition. 

God our Father comes from a pen whieh is noTV regarded as one 
of the most interesting, as well as the most learned among modern 
Catholic writers; and the delight with which the Author’s former 
volume was received by readers of all classes, is a suffieient warrant 
for the confideneo we feel, that God our Father will be welcomed 
with equal favor. It is intended as a companion volume to its prede- 
cessor, and is uniform with it in every respeet. 


Extracts from Notices of the Press. 

“ After reading this little book, we felt an ardent desire to tell every- 
body we had found a treasure. Its title, a rather unusual thing now- 
a-days, is the true exponent of its contents. That God is our Father 
— our kind, indulgent, beneficent, merciful, loving Father — it proves 
as we have never seen proved before. We do think if Voltaire had 
seen this little treatise, he would not have called God a ‘ tyrant, and 
the father of tyrants,’ and he, Voltaire, would not have been a fool, 
and the father of a generation of fools. Some Christians, other than 
Calvinists, are accustomed to regard God as a stern judge, or an exact- 
ing master, ignoring altogether his parental relationship. This way 
of regarding God not unfrequently produces a morbid spirituality, if 
not worse. Under its baneful influ enee, the soul is parched up an'd 
rendered incapable of any other sentiment than that of fear. It is 
true that ‘ fear is the beginning of wisdom but it is no less true that 
‘ love is the fulfilment of the law,’ and the sublime summary of the 
new dispensation. And who can love a being whom he sees only in 
the light of a stern judge, an exacting master? God, as he is repre- 
sented in this work, is a being whom you cannot but love. In very 
truth, the author himself must love much, or he could never write so 
eloquently of divine love. 

“ To all Catholies, who look with a filial confidence to God, and love 
him as their Father, we recommend this book as a means of strength- 
ening their confidence, and increasing their love. To those Catholies, 
happily few, who see in God only a rigid master, we prescribe the 
perusal of this work as the best remedy for their dangerous disease. 
To our separated brethren, who want to get a Christian idea of our 
common Father, we would respectfully suggest the careful study of 
this treatise ; they will find it sufficiently scriptural, and sufficiently 
simple for their tastes. 

“ We cannot, perhaps, pay the publishers a higher compliment than 
by saying that the setting is in every way worthy of the gem.” 

Catholic World. 

“ God our Father is especially suited to the generation of young 
Catholics which is now growing up. It is written in an easy and 
graceful style.” Catholic Guardian {California). 

Murphy JS: Co., l*uhli.<ther,<i and Jlooh.<ieJlers, Jialtlmore. 


God our Father, Notices of the Press, 

“God our Father is an interesting work, written in a simple bnt 
forcible style, setting forth the infinite mercy of God, and calming 
the souls of all those who morbidly dwell upon the severity of llis 
justice in the punishment of unrepentant sinners. It also teaches 
how peace of conscience can be obtained, and how bodily suffering 
can be endured with patience. The practical illustrations are very 
happy, and the essay may be read with profit by persons of all de- 
nominations.” Philadelphia Public Ledger. 

“It is in particular adapted to those pious souls in whom, from a 
wrong view of God, spite all their wishes, fear of Him takes the place 
of love.” . N. Y. Tablet. 

“ Earely have we taken up a book of devotion which gave us so 
much pleasure. There are in the world many persons, pious and 
moral withal, whose souls are continually overspread with gloom and 
despondency — whom doubts and anxieties as to their spiritual con- 
dition forever perplex and harass — and with whom the fear and not 
the love of God is the incentive to piety. It was to bring peace and 
solace to such souls, to remove their dread forebodings, to enforce the 
great and consoling truth that God is our Redeemer and Father, and 
to beget confidence in His infinite mercy and compassion, that this 
beautiful and useful book was written.” Wilmington {Del.) Gazette. 

“The aim of the author in this work has been the amplification of 
the Divine attribute of mercy, by giving prominence to the con- 
sideration of the Deity in the paternal relation to mankind. God, 
the Father, ready to receive and forgive sinners, is one of the most 
beautiful ideas of the Christian faith, and our author has been fully 
impressed with the beauty of his subject, and nothing can more 
tenderly appeal to the religious element of our natures than the im- 
pressive and loving manner in which he has presented this view of 
the Almighty Power. No more practical and available means of 
awakening the mind to the importance of religion can be suggested 
than in thus appealing to the finer qualities of our nature, and the 
pleasing manner in which this idea is carried out by the author 
renders the book one of great value to the anxious seeker after re- 
ligious truths.” Philadelphia Inquirer. ^ 

“ The book is adapted to every class of readers, and of every creed, 
there being nothing sectarian about it. The Presbyterian, the Episco- 
palian, the Methodist, and the Catholic, can read it with equal appre- 
ciation and benefit. The same qualities of style which gave such 
grace and unction to the ‘ Happiness of Heaven ’ appear in this little 
volume. The scholar will be delighted with its perusal, while the 
unlettered can draw comfort and consolation from its pages — so 
cultured and, at the same time, so simple and luminous is the char- 
acter of the language used. The author is particularly fertile and 
felicitous in his illustrations. They are always pertinent, explanatory 
and convincing.” Every Evening ( Wilmington^ Del.). 

“ We bid God our Father a hearty welcome, and wish we could 
introduce it to every Catholic family. There are too many Christians, 
who, though they may be constantly living in the state of grace, still 
do not find any relish in their religious practices, because they taka 
a wrong view of God. This book, if read by them, will pour a new 
light upon their path ; it will be to them like the sunny spring, chasing 
away past chill and gloom, and not only cheering life, but also in- 
vigorating spiritual growth.” Sunday-School Messenger {Chicago). 

Mtirphy & Co., Pithli.^hers and EooJcsellers, JBnlthnoro. 


Moral and Instructive Tales. 



CHEAP AND UNIFORM EDITION, 

In 12 vols. d.emi So. cloth^ ^1; cloth^ gilt sides and 
edges, $1.25. The complete set, in boxes, 12 vols., 
cloth, $12 ; cloth, gilt sides and edges, $15. 

m 

The Publishers desire to invite especial attention to this 
New, Cheap and Uniform Edition of the Short Tales of M. 
Hendrik Conscience, the distinguished Flemish Novelist. 
PoNTMARTiN, the acuto French Critic and Reviewer, has 
likened the Stories of Conscience, to “ pearls set in Flemish 
gold,” and in point of delicacy of treatment and high moral 
value, they richly justify the comparison. 

There is a pure morality throughout the works of this 
author, happily blending Entertainment with Instruction, 
and unmarred by Controversy, which makes them peculiarly 
fitted for the perusal of the young. 

1 . The Poor Gentleman. 

2 . The Conscript and Plind Itosa^ 

Two Tales in one volume. 

3 . Happiness of Being Bich. 

4 . The 3Iiser. 

6 . mcketicketack and Wooden Clara, 

Two Tales in one volume. 

6 . Count Hugo of Craenhove. 

7 . The Curse of the Village. 

8 . The Village Innkeeper, 

(Published in IST-t.) 

9 . The Fisherman’s Daughter. 

10 . The Amulet. 

(Just Published.) 

11 . The Young Doctor, 

12 . Ludovic and Gertrude, 

Murphy Co. Publishers d' Booksellers, Baltimore. 

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